Perfect Freedom (31 page)

“Then why don't you plan to have lunch on board? We can take off whenever we're ready. I'd better go speak to the captain.” They had the usual little squabble over paying the bill, which Carl won by pointing out that he was about to be Stuart's guest. Stuart thanked him and rose and gave his shoulder a friendly clap. “Come along whenever you feel like it.”

Von Eschenstadt was delighted with this development. He had hoped for an opportunity to cultivate the Coslings; they were the sort of people who might prove useful as time went by. Their family connections were interesting. They were well located geographically, affluent, with no fixed social ties. The wife was beautiful and obviously restless. The poetic-looking son was more beautiful than a boy should be. Carl had his suspicions about what he'd been up to with the young Greeks the night before. He found Stuart something of an enigma, an innocent who yet seemed at home in the world. His gentle, slightly distant manner masked what he sensed was a tough center of passionate convictions. He was the sort who could easily lull an adversary into thinking that he was unaware of anything going on around him and then suddenly strike. He would keep a wary eye on him.

He paid and strolled along the waterfront looking for a taxi boat to take him out to Mina Dianopoulou's house. It was a nuisance having to go to Hydra but he thought the trip might be worth the inconvenience. He found the handsome Theo and jumped into his boat.

“Mrs. Mina's house?” the boy asked. “I can't wait for you there. You found me just in time. I'm taking the boat to Methana for two days.”

“I must find another boat,” Carl said in his rough but serviceable Greek. “What if I go for a minute and come right back?”

“You'll be quick? Okay. For you, I'll do it. I should be going.”

“You had a fine time last night, I hear,” Carl said to test his suspicions after they were underway.

The handsome boy grinned and squeezed his famous crotch. “Very fine. Did he tell you? He's the most beautiful boy I've ever had. You tell him I won't forget him. He's my friend. Tell him to come back.”

Carl filed the message away in the back of his mind for possible future use.…

When Robbie came out on deck, blinking in the bright light, he found a party in progress. The good-looking German was there and doleful Johnny and their hostess of the night before. His appearance gave rise to playful remarks about sleeping his way through Greece.

“I suppose I was quite late,” he said. “We went over there somewhere to a house where there were other people. We had more wine and swam.” And made love, he almost added, looking at Johnny. His father gave him a beer and Johnny indicated discreetly that he had something private to say to him. Robbie stepped up on deck and led him forward.

“He asked me to give you this,” Johnny said, handing over a small object wrapped in crumpled brown paper. The loose paper fell away from a blue glass disk with a bull's-eye bead set in it. It was strung on a leather thong. “It's to ward off the evil eye,” Johnny explained. “He wants you to come back. Was it lovely?”

“God, yes. Wonderful. Where is he? I've got to see him.”

“He's gone across to the mainland till tomorrow or the next day. That's probably best, don't you think? What could you say to each other except good-bye?”

“Yes, I suppose so.” Robbie looked at the curious little pendant and felt warmed and loved and protected by his family of brothers. He had yet to acquire any sense of continuity in his lovemaking. Things happened with the sudden force of a bolt of lightning. Last night it had been forever, but it was no great shock to him to realize that he might never see the boy again. He supposed it had been the wine that cloaked it in a dreamlike haze but he could still feel Theo in him. They loved each other. “I wish I had something to leave him,” he said, his eyes misting slightly.

“I'll get some little thing for him and say you sent it.”

“I haven't any money.”

“Never mind. I shan't spend much but he'll be pleased. He was very sweet and affectionate about you. He'll probably always remember the beautiful American boy as one of the highlights of his life.”

“Tell him I'll try to come on the way back. Tell him to watch for the boat in about a month.”

Robbie put the thong around his neck and they wandered back to the others. If anybody asked about the trinket, he'd say he'd found it on the beach.

Drinks were replenished and drunk. Robbie learned that Carl was coming with them. Johnny escorted Mrs. Dianopoulou to the end of the gangplank. “I think perhaps you will regret taking a passenger,” she said oracularly as she bade Stuart good-bye.

“Why? Is he badly behaved at sea?” he asked.

“Oh.” She lifted her hand in an odd benediction. “I am an old woman and see evil everywhere.”

The newly constituted foursome had lunch under the awning in the cockpit. The guest was so much the center of attention that not even Helene noticed Robbie's pendant. He resented Carl's preoccupation with her. He resented her appearing to enjoy it. He couldn't understand why his father encouraged them. He felt Carl's charm but thought him too slick and overconfident.

From time to time the German caught his eye and looked at him with amused complicity, as if they shared a pleasant secret. It made Robbie nervous. There was a reference to some plan to meet Carl later at Delos. Stuart even tried to persuade him to stay with them until then.

“No,” Carl said with robust good humor. “I shall go to Delos and wait impatiently for you.”

“Not too impatiently, I hope,” Helene said lightly. “It's so difficult for us to make any fixed plans.”

“Oh, we'll be there, all right,” Stuart put in.

“Darling, you've said all along we don't want to follow a schedule,” she protested.

“No matter,” Carl said. “You can't leave without seeing Delos. I shall be waiting.” His eyes met Robbie's again and this time seemed to contain a promise that sent a shiver down his spine. Was it possible that they understood each other? Could an older man be interested in a boy in that way? Was his interest in his mother only a camouflage?

He was suddenly swept by a wave of condemnation of his father. He had practically forced him to be friendly with Rico. He had let him go off last night without paying any attention to where he was going. If he had done anything wrong, it was his father's fault for not using his imagination. If he'd been running after girls he would have teased him unmercifully. Because everything had happened with boys, he ignored it. He remembered their embarrassed flight from that place in St. Tropez during their big night in town last year. If it was so terrible, why hadn't his father warned him about such things? What had become of the paternal authority he had been taught to honor and respect? Maybe it didn't matter if his mother behaved foolishly but what if the German's attentions were really directed at him? He tried not to let himself be excited by the possibility. Couldn't his father see the danger and take steps to eliminate it instead of befriending Carl? His father was all for freedom; maybe he didn't care.

Last night, everything had seemed so simple and natural, thanks to Johnny and the Greeks, and his whole being had responded with joy. Now, the initial guilt he had felt with Rico was getting a grip on him again and threatened him once more with despair.

Was it possible to renounce sex? It would never again be so wonderful as it had been with Theo. He couldn't imagine wanting to do things with a girl, and homosexuality, which hadn't seemed to mean anything last night, was too abhorrent to think about, an affliction that would have already marked him as indelibly as leprosy. He couldn't be that way. His three brothers were strong healthy men, not homosexuals.

He would close his mind to whatever evil acts he had committed and the ecstasy they had offered him, cease to count on his father's guidance, freeze out this insidious Stranger, and live in peace for his mother and his work.

When they had cast off lines and hoisted sail Helene and Carl usurped Robbie's place on the forward deck. Stuart started to join them but was arrested by the sound of Helene's full-throated laughter. He hadn't heard her laugh like that for years. Would he be an intrusion on their enjoyment of each other's company? Nonsense. He started forward and stopped again. What was this? Jealousy? He made himself go back to Rico and take the wheel, thinking of Mrs. Dianopoulou's last words, and wished the woman hadn't put ideas in his head.

They were all back in the cockpit having drinks when they sailed into the amphitheater of Hydra's port in the late afternoon. Because of the way it was situated, they didn't see it until they were in it. It was an impressive ruin. Mouldering carcasses of houses were strewn over the highest hillsides. Carl knew its history and told them about its eminence during the Napoleonic Wars and the War of Independence against the Turks when it had been an important maritime power. He pointed out the remains of fortifications on both arms of the port and the great stone mansions along the waterfront that had been built by pirate princes. He made it a colorful story.

The alchemy of a small boat at sea had forged ties between them as strong as if they'd known each other for years. Even Robbie found it difficult to hold himself aloof from the guest. Their frequent insinuating eye contact was wearing down his resistance. He was almost sure now that Carl wanted him. He had the air of a man who usually got what he wanted. He couldn't help seeing, in the light summer clothes Carl wore, that his body was still youthful and handsomely desirable. His crotch was bulky with promise. Robbie began to see in him the father he would have liked to have, dashing, playful, full of hearty laughter, vividly authoritative. He accepted his flirtatiousness with his mother as he grew more confident that he was the real object of his pursuit.

There was no quai they could tie up to, only a steep pebble beach on which lay a number of
caïques,
similar to St. Tropez's
tartanes
. They dropped anchor while a crowd gathered on the paved waterfront and Robbie helped Rico get the dinghy over the side.

“You no come home till morning. I watch,” Rico said, taking advantage of the private moment. “Greek boys crazy. They like each other. No girls. You fuck with friend, I bet.”

“Yes,” Robbie admitted, blushing.

“Sure. You and me, too much danger in port. We wait. Hokay?”

“We'd better.” He was glad to shelve that problem for the time being. If Carl stayed aboard for the night, he would be free for any eventuality.

Carl pointed out a dilapidated house high up on one arm of the port and told them that he wanted to take them up to meet the Hamiltons, an English writer and his wife. As far as he knew, they were the only foreigners who lived on the island. When the time came to go ashore, Helene emerged looking radiant in a simple summer dress. She was more carefully made up than usual and had arranged her hair softly around her face in a way that made her look younger. Carl was carrying the small bag he'd brought with him.

“Why're you taking that?” Stuart asked. “Aren't you spending the night with us? There's an extra cabin.”

“No, no, my friend. You want to get off first thing in the morning. The Hamiltons will always give me a bed. I'll make my way back to Poros in the next day or two.”

“Suit yourself.” Stuart admired the German's independence. He would never be a nuisance to have around.

Robbie felt cheated. What had Carl's eyes meant if he wasn't waiting for a chance to have him? He had filled his mind with unwanted thoughts and led him to the point of acquiescence. That settled it. He wasn't going to let himself think about sex anymore.

They were rowed ashore by Rico and climbed a steep difficult path to the house. Carl was as agile as a goat; the others labored in his wake. He was greeted by the Hamiltons like an old and valued friend. A man identified as a famous Greek painter with a house on the island had also brought a group, including the startlingly glamorous Lady Diana Cooper.
Ouzo
and
retsina
flowed. Food kept appearing in a succession of exotic appetizers. Lamps were lighted as it grew dark. There was no electricity except around the port, no telephones, no cars, no daily papers, only spasmodic mail. The Coslings had the impression of an enchanted outpost of civilization, remote and timeless. Stuart issued more invitations to St. Tropez. Lady Diana knew the admiral and expected to be there in August if there wasn't a war.

Robbie was much younger than the others and Helene watched with delight as he charmed them all with his good looks and quiet intelligence. His fastidiousness, which she credited herself with cultivating in him, was in marked contrast to Carl's slightly coarse if beguiling geniality.

“For me, this has been the most momentous encounter of many years,” Carl said to her when the party was showing signs of breaking up. “I can't wait for our reunion in Delos.”

“I wish you wouldn't make it sound as if you were arranging all your plans around it. So many things can change on a boat. Everybody says we've been lucky with the weather. Our luck might not hold.”

“No, no. The Coslings lead charmed lives. The weather will be perfect. If you don't meet me, I will know you are afraid of me.”

“Oh really, Carl,” she said with exasperation. Nothing had occurred between them to justify this challenge. She found him attractive but he was a fool.

He had a private word with Robbie during a general move toward departure. “You must make sure your parents keep our date in Delos. I'll expect you in no more than three weeks. It is a place of special meanings for you. It will be exciting to share it with you.” His eyes were once more full of promise.

Robbie didn't understand what it was supposed to be leading to. It made him impatient of his own lack of comprehension. “It's one of the places we've planned to go to all along,” he said dismissively. “I don't think there's much doubt we'll get there.”