The man didn’t flinch or move his head. If he saw them, he didn’t seem to care. He just
kept walking an even line, concentrating on the dog galloping in front of him.
“I’ll call you later today,” Chad said. He had to go to Rocco’s to take care of his pet
iguana. “You sure you can handle everything at your place? The guys will be there around noon
to remove all the mattresses from last night.”
“I’m good,” Ricky said. “I can handle it.” All he really had to do was straighten up the
house and pick up his father’s car from the dealership. And with his school suspension, he’d
have plenty of time. Who knew getting suspended could be so stress free?
Chad closed the door and tapped the hood. As Ricky took off, he shouted, “I’ll call you
later tonight.” Ricky honked and turned right, heading west so he could get into the Lincoln Tunnel
before the morning rush hour got into full swing. The streets in Manhattan were busy, but it was
still too early for traffic jams. He drove slowly and paid attention to the road. He hadn’t slept all
night and his eyelids were heavy. The sun didn’t actually rise until Ricky exited off Route 80 and
turned toward the direction of his neighborhood. He was planning to jump into bed and get a few
hours of sleep before the guys came to remove the twin mattresses. After that, he’d spruce up the
house and call the airport to see what time his parents were arriving.
When he walked through the garage door that led to the kitchen, he noticed an eerie quiet
in the house. There wasn’t a clock ticking or an appliance motor turning. He shrugged it off as
his imagination and placed his car keys on a hook, then yawned and walked to the front steps. He
stretched his arms and yawned again as he passed the living room. But when he reached the
bottom of the stairs, he stopped short and took a few steps backward.
He peered into the living room and blinked. A rush of panic filled his body and his heart
started pounding. There wasn’t stick of furniture left. All the paintings and mirrors had been
removed, and the hardwood floors were bare. He ran through the first floor of the house, with his
hand pressed to his heart, gaping at empty rooms and naked walls. When he ran upstairs, he
found the second floor of the house in the same condition. Even the twin mattresses were gone.
He rubbed his jaw and smacked his forehead, wondering what he was going to do now. At the
very least, the window treatments were still intact.
He couldn’t call the police, so he dialed Rocco’s phone number in New York, hoping
Chad would know what to do. He had a feeling Carson the pimp was behind all this. A random
robbery would have been too coincidental. Oh, this was bad. His mother and father were due
home and Ricky had to get all their belongings back. The telephone in Rocco’s apartment rang five times. Ricky paced the kitchen until
someone finally answered. “Hello?”
Ricky hesitated a moment. He’d know Carson the pimp’s voice anywhere: the twang, the
nasal tone, and the thick New York accent were unmistakable. Ricky imagined him sitting on
Rocco’s leather sofa with his legs crossed and his feet resting on the arm. “Where’s all my
furniture?” Ricky asked. His tone was bold and forthright.
“Well, well,” Carson said. “If it isn’t my little friend, Ricky Dickey Daley.”
“Where’s Chad?” Ricky asked. And how did Carson know his last name?
“He’s fine,” Carson said. “We worked things out this morning and he went back to his
own apartment. I’m really not such a bad guy, Ricky Dickey. Chad told me he didn’t want to
work for me anymore and I let him go. No strings attached. He’s home now, probably sleeping
after the workout you two boys had on the subway last night. You’re a naughty boy, Ricky. I
heard you put on quite a show for my guy.”
Ricky’s stomach tugged. The young guy on the subway last night must have worked for
Carson, and he must have been following Ricky and Chad all night. “But Chad is okay?” For a
moment, Ricky forgot all about his furniture and his parents. The only thing that mattered was
Chad. “Because if he’s not, I’m coming after you. I swear I am.” But his voice cracked; this
fake-mean attitude wasn’t even convincing him.
“Calm down, Ricky. Chad is fine. I told him he can quit working for me as long as he
retires from the business. I just don’t want him taking business away from me, that’s all. If he
wants to retire, stop turning tricks, and move on with his life, I’m cool with that.”
“Chad wants to retire?” This was news to Ricky. He and Chad hadn’t spoken about the
future. Ricky had been wondering where they stood as a couple. “Says he’s tired of all this,” Carson said. “And I’ll bet I know why, Ricky. From what I
heard, you know how to take good care of a man. From what I’m told, you have a sweet little ass.
I heard Chad’s mouth was hanging open by the time you lifted your pretty legs up and got off his
lap. I knew you were a dirty boy, Ricky. I could sense it. If you’re ever interested in working for
me, I’d take good care of you. I heard you’re a good little bottom. Of course I’d have to try you
out for myself first to see if you’re really that good. I got a nice big one, Ricky. Bigger than Chad.
I’d make you feel real good, Ricky baby.”
Ricky clenched his fist and said, “Listen to me, pal. I just want my furniture back. And I
want it back today, you fucking sleaze ball.” The thought of sleeping with Carson made his
stomach churn.
Click.
So Ricky dialed again. When Carson answered this time he said, “You’re not playing
nice, Ricky. You stole my best girls last night, took money out of my pocket, and now you’re
going to have to pay for it, and not with your hot little ass.”
Ricky had had enough. He gritted his teeth and started to shout. “I want my fucking
furniture back, asshole.”
Click.
This time when Ricky dialed, he took a deep breath and said, “I’m sorry. I just want my
furniture back, is all.” He’d do anything. He’d even sleep with him if that’s what it took.
Carson hesitated for a second. He started out with a slow, even tone. “That’s much better,
Ricky. Now you sound like the smart guy I thought you were.”
“I don’t want any trouble. I just want my furniture back.” Carson started to shout. “Do you know how fucking lucky you are? For what you did to
me, I should have taken your fucking arms, your fucking legs, and your fucking head instead of
your furniture. Do you know what I could have done to you, Ricky?”
He was screaming so loud Ricky had to hold the phone away from his ear. “Yes,” Ricky
said. “I know what you could have done. I’m lucky.” He spoke with a low, apologetic tone now,
hoping to calm him down and pacify him. He figured he’d better be nice, otherwise he’d never
see his furniture again. “How can I get my furniture back?”
“Now that’s much better, Ricky,” Carson said. “I like you. You know that. I think we can
work out an arrangement that will suit us both. What do you think, Ricky?”
Ricky sighed. “I’ll do whatever you want.” He knew he didn’t have any options. There
were certain things he’d learned this past week. One, you don’t grab Nurse Cunt by the collar.
Two, you don’t piss off a pimp.
* * * *
At noon, Ricky jogged all the way down to the car dealership and picked up the Porsche.
To look at the car, no one would ever have guessed it had gone off the dock and landed hood
first in the lake. He paid the service manager in cash, fifties and hundreds, then went outside.
When he clicked the locks, his hands shook, and when he drove the car back to the house, he
hugged the curb and never left second gear. Old women on the sidewalk passed him by on the
right. Little kids on tricycles forged ahead of him on the left. Ricky didn’t care how many other
cars honked or how many middle fingers the other drivers gave him. He gripped the steering
wheel with both hands so hard his fingers went numb. He sat hunched over and never removed his eyes from the road once. He didn’t take a complete breath until the car was safely parked in
the garage and the keys were hanging on the hook in the kitchen.
At two o’clock that afternoon, a moving van with those irritating beeping sounds backed
up in his driveway. Two guys jumped out of the cab and opened the rear door of the van. Ricky
noticed one of them was the young guy with dark hair who had watched him on the subway. As
the young guy helped push the door open, he smiled at Ricky and licked his lips. Then he nodded
to the other guy and said, “He’s the one I told you about. Hot little ass. Loves dick.” The other
guy, larger and beefier, sent Ricky a naughty glance and bit his lip.
Ricky ignored them both though, deep down, he couldn’t deny a small part of him
enjoyed the attention. But when Ricky looked inside the truck, his face fell. Carson the pimp was
lounging on his mother’s sofa smoking a cigarette. He scratched his dick and blew a stream of
smoke in Ricky’s direction. Then he smiled at Ricky and said, “Let’s get to work, Ricky. I don’t
have all afternoon.”
“What do you want?” If there was a God, Ricky wouldn’t have to sleep with him.
Carson stood up and scratched his dick again. “I could ask you to take off your pants and
get inside with me. I could ask you to spread those pretty legs and ride me the same way you
rode Chad. I could even ask you to wrap those pretty lips around my cock and suck me off.
There are many things I’d like you to do for me, Ricky Dickey Daley.”
Ricky gulped.
“But I have an idea you might like better.”
Getting back the furniture was almost like going to an auction, only Ricky was the only
one bidding, and he was bidding on his own furniture, paying for it with the money he’d made
the previous night with Chad. Carson would hold up a lamp or point to a chair and say, “How much is this fine piece worth to you, Ricky?” and Ricky would name a price and hand Carson a
stack of cash. By the time the moving van was empty and all of Ricky’s furniture was out on the
front lawn, Ricky had fifty dollars left in his hand. Carson smiled and walked up behind him. He
pulled the fifty-dollar bill out of Ricky’s hand and said, “I can use this for tolls.” Then he
reached down and patted Ricky on the ass. “If you change your mind about working for me,
Ricky, let me know. I could make you very happy and very rich. I have clients who would pay
double for an ass like that.” He turned to the other two guys and asked, “Am I right, boys?”
“I’d fuck him,” the beefy guy said, looking down between Ricky’s legs.
“I’d fucking bend him in half,” the younger one shouted.
Ricky frowned and looked down at his shoes. Although this was one of those
compliments Ricky could have lived without, he wasn’t totally offended. “Ah well, no thanks,
Carson.”
Carson shrugged and walked back to the truck. “Too bad, kid.” He turned, faced Ricky,
and grabbed his crotch. “You don’t know what you’re missing.” Then he laughed with a high
pitched cackle and jumped into the truck.
When they were gone, Ricky didn’t waste a minute lugging the furniture into the house.
He called Leyland and Glen, told them he needed their help, and asked if they’d cut school early
to help put the furniture back. Ricky’s adrenaline was pumping and his heart was racing. By the
time Leyland and Glen arrived, he’d already taken all the smaller pieces he could carry alone
into the house and set them up.
The boys worked fast, without stopping once for a break. Glen was stronger than Ricky
and Leyland. They marveled at the way Glen’s large football player arms could lift and carry
wing chairs without even breaking a sweat. Leyland poked Ricky in the ribs when Glen lifted the grandfather clock all alone and carried it into the front hall. When the clock went up, Glen’s
biceps bulged and his pants gathered up on his groin. Leyland started licking his lips and rubbing
his palms. But Ricky smacked him in the back of the head and gave him a look. This was no time
to joke about men. They had to get this house back together.
When Leyland placed the last piece of porcelain in the dining room china closet and Glen
tossed a few throw pillows on the living room sofa, Ricky thanked them and told them to leave.
When they headed down the front walk, Ricky was still holding his mother’s hand-blown crystal
putto in his arms and he still had to call the airport to find out what time his parents were arriving.
But as he placed the putto back on the mantel where it belonged, he heard the front door
click open, then heard his father call his name.
He crossed into the hall and greeted them with a surprised glare. “I thought you were
