rush?”
But Ricky just smiled and kept running, and didn’t stop until he reached his driveway and
saw Leyland’s mother’s minivan parked there. He knew Leyland had left school earlier. He’d
told Ricky he couldn’t wait around to give him a ride because he had something important to do.
Ricky rubbed his jaw and frowned. When he considered the fact that Leyland might be
inside paying Chad for sex he clenched his fists and marched toward the front door.
As he approached, Leyland came ambling down the front walk. His head was tilted back
and he had a sly grin. Ricky stopped and shoved his hands into his pockets. “What are you doing
here?”
Leyland shrugged. “I wanted to see Chad again. I just stopped by to say hello.” Then he
smiled and looked down at his shoes.
Ricky’s face grew hot; his temples began to pound. “Did you do anything with him?
Please tell me you didn’t.” The thought of Leyland doing anything with Chad made his stomach
turn. He had to concentrate hard on keeping his cool. He was caught between two undesirablel
reactions: punching Leyland in the jaw and throwing his arms in the air and giving up on Chad.
“I didn’t do anything with him,” Leyland said.
A lighter sensation passed through Ricky’s body. “You sure?” He couldn’t tell if he was
lying.
“I’m sure.” But as he turned and walked toward the minivan, he started laughing. “I
didn’t do anything with Chad, but I just sucked Rocco off in the powder room.”
Ricky blinked. Leyland laughed all the way to the minivan, and he continued laughing as he backed out
of the driveway and sped away.
By the time Ricky turned around and started walking to the front door, a tall dark guy
with a crooked Roman nose met him on the front porch. He reminded Ricky of the guys he saw
either working in pizza shops all over northern New Jersey or the guys in magazine ads who
stripped in gay nightclubs in New York. His dark hair was cut short and styled with gobs of
product, he had those bulging muscles that can only be achieved by taking endless cycles of
steroids, and he wore a tight black T-shirt and faded jeans. There was a tattoo of a snake on his
massive right bicep and a large diamond in his right ear lobe.
“Yo, you got a nice place here, Ricky,” he said. “I’m Rocco.” He spoke with a heavy
New York accent, probably Brooklyn. But Ricky wasn’t an expert and it could have been any
one of the outer boroughs.
Ricky rolled his eyes and walked past him. “Where’s Chad?”
“In the kitchen,” he said. When he said
the
it came out as
da
.
When Ricky stormed into the house, his heart was pounding. He met Chad in the hall and
said, “You have to leave. I’m not joking anymore.”
Chad frowned and walked into the dining room. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t I even
get a kiss hello or ‘how was your day, sweetie-pie’?”
“I’m not kidding,” Ricky said, following him. “You have to leave.” He’d had enough of
all this drama and confusion. He’d had enough frustration and anxiety. He was helping Chad
through this ordeal with Carson the pimp, and now he had to deal with Rocco as well. Chad had
crossed the line and Ricky had to be tough. “This isn’t going to work.” Chad sighed. “I don’t get the problem. No one’s ripping you off, Ricky.” He didn’t sound
angry or insulted, just exasperated.
Then Rocco came stomping into the room, waving a fan of cash in the air. He handed
Ricky the money and said, “Here you go, buddy.” When he said buddy with his thick accent it
sounded like body.
“What’s that for?” Ricky asked, staring down at the cash with furrowed eyebrows.
“It’s for the fucking house,” Rocco said, speaking with his hands. When he said
fucking
,
he dropped the g at the end. “It’s your fucking cut for the fuzzy-looking kid who just fucking
sucked me off in the bathroom.” He waved the money again. “But I should have fucking charged
him extra. His fucking teeth were sharp as fucking nails.” He grabbed his crotch with the other
hand. “I thought he was going to fucking chew my fucking balls off.”
Ah, well. Ricky rolled his eyes at the ceiling. He ran his palm through his hair and said,
“Ah well, isn’t that nice of you?
He couldn’t believe there was a guy standing in his house, using the word
fucking
two
and three times in every sentence, waving a wad of cash he’d just received thanks to a bad blow
job by Leyland. Was this a dream? If Ricky pinched himself would he wake up and be normal
again?
Chad breezed by on his way to the kitchen. “Take the money, Ricky. It’s your house.”
Ricky lifted his arms and stepped back. “I don’t want the money. I just want you to
leave.” Then he walked around Rocco and went into the living room alone.
Ricky heard Chad step into the hall. When Rocco saw Chad, he said, “We gotta leave
now? I just fucking got here.” “If that’s what Ricky wants, then we have to leave,” Chad said. Then his voice rose. “Is
that what you want, Ricky, for me to leave? Are you telling me you never want to see me
again?”
Ricky turned and walked into the hall. His hands were in his pockets and he was staring
at the Persian rug on the floor. “I would appreciate it very much. Thank you.” He couldn’t look
into Chad’s eyes. He was afraid if he did he’d change his mind and let them stay.
After that, Rocco and Chad went upstairs to gather their belongings. It didn’t take long.
Ricky assumed Rocco must have brought his clothes from the city, because when they came
strutting down the steps they were both gripping suitcases and carrying suit jackets over their
shoulders.
As both men walked down the driveway, Ricky stood in front of the garage door with his
arms folded across his chest and his legs spread apart. He wanted to make sure they were gone
before he went back into the house. He didn’t smile or nod once. He remained expressionless and
firm. But when Chad reached the end of the driveway and turned back to look at him, Ricky felt
a thickness in his throat that made him swallow hard. He almost took a step forward. He almost
reached out with both arms to call him back. But he remained fixed in one position until they
turned right and started walking down the street.
When they were out of sight, Ricky went into the house and up to his room. He changed
into white cotton boxer shorts and a T-shirt so he could go down to the basement and work out
with weights. But while he was jogging down the steps in his bare feet, he heard screeching tires
in the driveway. He heard a car door slam shut, then voices coming from the front lawn.
Someone shouted a name he couldn’t make out, then someone else shouted the word fucking
without using the g. So he crossed to the narrow window beside the front door and pulled the sheer curtains
aside. When he looked out to the right, he saw Carson the pimp’s big black SUV in the driveway.
To the left, he saw Carson standing in the middle of his front yard while two other men he’d
never seen before held Rocco and Chad by their collars. Chad and Rocco were struggling to
break free.Their suitcases and their clothes were on the grass and they were shouting at Carson.
By the time Ricky opened the door and went out to see what was going on, Chad and
Rocco had broken free and were jogging toward the house. Ricky stopped at the top of the
driveway. Chad and Rocco rushed around him and went into the house. Ricky stood there in his
white boxers and T-shirt, gawking. He watched Carson and his two men pick up Chad and
Rocco’s bags and clothes. They gathered them up in heaps and piles and tossed them into the
SUV. Then the two guys stood beside the SUV and Carson walked up to where Ricky was
standing. His hands were in his pockets and he had a mean, crushed expression. For a pimp, he
looked so slight and skinny, as if a good wind could blow him over. His hands and feet were
unusually small.
Carson didn’t even acknowledge Ricky. He walked past him and turned toward the front
door with his arms swinging and his heels clicking.
“Can I help you?” Ricky asked. His voice remained low and cautious. He wasn’t sure
what to say or how to react. But he wasn’t letting Carson the pimp inside his house. He was
already in enough trouble. He didn’t need this.
Carson stopped walking and faced him. “Who the fuck are you?” His voice wasn’t soft or
cautious.
“Ricky.” He spoke so quietly he almost didn’t make a sound. Carson walked up and circled behind him. “You the one who was fucking around last
night in the city?”
Ricky knew he was talking about the car chase through Manhattan. But he shrugged and
said, “I might be.” Though his knees were about to knock and his voice was ready to tremble,
Ricky couldn’t help wondering where this guy got his nerve. He wasn’t in New York anymore
and he wasn’t near his own territory. This was private property and Ricky had every right to ask
him to leave.
When Carson turned his back on Ricky and started for the front door, Ricky walked up
behind him, cleared his throat, and said, “I’m sorry if this sounds rude. But I’m going to have to
ask you to remove yourself from my property.” He wanted to kick himself after he said it. He
knew it sounded too formal and out of place. But he wasn’t used to dealing with crooks and
thugs and pimps. If there was a protocol, he hadn’t learned it in school.
Carson turned and faced him again. “Ricky, you look like a smart guy. The door is locked.
Why don’t you open it up and let me take care of my own business? You’re giving me a mean
headache.” He nodded at the SUV and the two guys stepped forward. One was heavy-set with a
bald head and the other had a ruddy complexion and a ponytail. They walked up the lawn and
stood behind Ricky. They didn’t speak or move. They just stood there waiting for Carson to
speak, with their shoulders squared and their hands in their pockets.
Then Chad and Rocco opened a window above the front door and Chad said, “I hope
your headache is so bad your head falls off, Carson. You’re an asshole.” They must have been up
there listening to everything.
Carson walked down to where Ricky was standing and pointed to Chad in the second
story window. They both started arguing back and forth, shouting profanities and slinging insults. Ricky just stared in amazement. He even forgot about being on the front lawn in bare feet and
boxer shorts. He couldn’t believe this was happening and he hoped no one in the neighborhood
was watching. But when he turned quickly to look at the street, there was a group of small
children standing at the curb. Their bikes were parked and they were gaping up at the house. One
little blond girl had her palm over her mouth. And a little boy was leaning forward on his
handlebars with his mouth wide open.
“We don’t work for you anymore,” Chad said. “You don’t own us.”
“That’s right,” Rocco said. “We don’t fucking work for you no more.”
Ricky cringed. Now Rocco was shouting profanities with dropped g’s and double
negatives out the window for the whole neighborhood to hear. This was getting out of hand;
Ricky had to do something.
Carson said, “If you don’t work for me, then who do you work for?” He laughed and
shook his head, as if he knew how to control his subjects better than anyone else.
“We work for Ricky,” Rocco said, pointing to Ricky.
“Ah well,” Ricky said. “They don’t work for me.”
“Yes, we do,” Chad said.
Carson’s head went up and his shoulders went back. “Oh, so you work for Ricky now.”
He turned and approached Ricky. He lowered his voice and said, “You’re a smart kid, Ricky. I
can see that. I like you, Ricky.”
Ricky’s head went back. Carson’s teeth were yellow; his breath smelled like ass.
“You’re enjoying all this,” Carson said, “and you’re having fun right now, kid.” He put
his arm around Ricky’s shoulders and guided Ricky toward the SUV. While he spoke the other
two guys got back into the car. “But you’re fucking with my livelihood now, Ricky, and that’s not good. You don’t fuck around with a man’s income. Those two fuck machines up there are
my bread and butter, especially Chad. That’s right, it’s all about dick. And those two big-dicked,
brainless, donkey faggots keep me very comfortable. I’m not going to let anyone steal them
away from me.”
From the way Carson spoke, Chad and Rocco didn’t just work for him, they were his
personal possessions. Ricky lifted his eyebrows and his back arched. Though he felt his heart in
his throat by then, he figured he’d better keep his mouth shut and continue playing innocent. This
