Three Ex Presidents and James Franco (14 page)

              The name of the university could be changed. Jake could rewrite it. So, in fact, it would have nothing to do with me. Jake had seen the play and had independently decided I'd struck on an interesting idea. I had no control over what he would later do with that idea.

              That was pretty much the end of the discussion. Jake was right, if he decided to go ahead with the plan there was nothing I could do about it. And he was even sincere in saying he would re-write it. My involvement was not required.

              Jake, a man always possessed, expanded his operations. His travelling band of sperm donors were also to become a travelling troupe of actors. Going from city to city, performing the play, and then leaving deposits in local banks while they were there. They would pick up new recruits along the way. The news would spread. Soon they would receive national coverage.

              That was the task Jake set himself. Within weeks he, James, Zach and the recruits he could convince, were heading to New York.

65.
Eric was becoming noticeably more irate.

              His plan to use me as some kind of emissary in order to get to Fiona was having little success. Despite having started to see a girl called Chloe, he still kept me around. He pried me for information on Brandon. So far very little I offered was proving of any use.

              When I was meeting Brandon alone, Eric knew. He'd then visit Fiona. It wasn't long before I was aware of this. Indeed, Brandon and myself discussed the fact when we did meet. But all of his entreaties were met with little success. At first I thought that Brandon was aware of how irreconcilable the former couple were, and so felt no nervousness on meeting me and letting them alone.

              After a few meetings, I became aware of another agenda. Brandon, though a fast thinker, was a slow operator, especially when the issue involved was in some way sensitive.

              "Does it not make you a little nervous that you're here with me, while your girlfriend is off with her ex? Surely you can't be too confident nothing will come of it, they've known each other longer afterall."

              "Well, there's also something I want to talk to you about." He eventually came to it. "I really wanted to say this to you, but I'm not sure of the best way to get to it. I know you've become friends with that guy Eric. And that’s great. I'm sure he's a good guy. It’s just that I really, really think I've fallen for this girl."

              "I know. I know. And that’s wonderful for you."

              "It’s just that, she can be quite conservative, you know? A little less embracing with her views. I don't know how she'd react if she heard about what type of friends we are. I mean, what type of friends we used to be. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

              "Yeah, I hear you. But I'm not going to tell her. I'm not going to ruin this on you. Jesus, I'd never do that to you."

              "I know that. I know that. I know you wouldn't say anything. Its not you I'm worried about."

              "Oh." I understood.

              "I don't know how close you and Eric have become. And as I said, he's a great guy. But there are certain things about me I really wouldn't want him to know. Information he could do a bit of damage with."

              The thought had crossed my mind that this was the type of information that Eric was priming me for. I had never revealed it. Strangely, it had not been out of loyalty to Brandon. It was a fear that with that revelation Eric would be done with me. The sex was great, I didn't want it to end. And it wouldn't end while I was still in some way useful.

              "Don't worry. I'll never tell him. Never." The words pacified Brandon. Though I doubted the truth of them as I spoke. The implication that what we had was something to be ashamed of hurt me, and the hurt in turn did actually shame me, for some reason.

66.
Jake took off on his nationwide tour. When I inquired what he was going to do about college he scoffed at me. He was a gay man. In no rush. He needed no immediate career. He didn't have plans for a house and family. He could take his time. And anyway, this was too important.

              I thought maybe it was an absurd way of thinking. It was difficult to conceive that people can actually be so cold and intellectual about their futures. Then I thought of Eric. He seemed to hold no love for Fiona, as far as I could see. But he wanted her. The idea of her. Her money, her family, their future together. He seemed desperate to attain it. And our relationship attested that he was willing to go to quite some lengths to do so.

              It’s always surprising when you realise that other people in this world don't have the same way of looking at things as everyone else. Some people can go to extremes. Without that we have no conception of the word normal.

67.
I awoke one morning at the screaming sound of a text message arriving in my phone. I disentangled myself from Eric, trying not to wake him. He didn't like being woken to the sight of another man in his bed.

              The text was from Jake: "On way back. James F there today. Detain him until I'm there. Don't let him leave."

              I roused, showered, dressed and left. My first assumption was that he'd head straight for Jake's house. So that’s where I went. I had no idea why I needed to detain him, unless he was having some sort of psychotic episode. Had I stopped to think about it I would have realised that there was nothing I could do in such a circumstance. But in the torpor of the early morning I didn't stop to consider these things.

              There was a window open that I got my hand through and managed to open the door. The house seemed empty. Though Jake's bed seemed slept in. There were papers and empty coffee cups everywhere.

              I went to text or phone Jake for further instructions but had left my phone behind in Eric's. The disastrous nature of the mistake was made clear to me immediately as I found myself face to face with Eric in the doorway of Jake's bedroom. The phone was in his hand.

              I could make it all sound more dramatic then it was. Eric accused me of treachery and demanded to know where James was. I told him that that text was all I received and I hadn't seen him since Eric was shot. This was a lie, and he knew it.

              Eric went into a controlled rage, tearing the place apart, eventually revealing a gun, James's gun surely, under the mattress of Jake's bed. The gun was back.

              "He's here," Eric screamed. "You were coming here to meet him. You have been meeting him. You've probably been up to sick shit together. The two of you. You, with that guy. The guy who fucking shot me. You tremendous fuck. You tremendous disloyal fucker."

              Put that down, there's no need to use that. This is his, isn't it? It must be, Jake wouldn't have a gun. So the little shit is definitely here, around here somewhere. If you go looking for him you'll have to put that thing away. Where is he? Don't point that at me. Where the fuck is he? I don't know, really Eric I know as much as you. I'm gonna get that fuck. I'm really gonna get him. Just calm down. Where is he? Fuck man, I really don't know. I'll find him, he hasn't gone far, he wouldn't go far without this. Seriously, relax. Don't tell me to relax you fucking faggot, I'm gonna sort that guy out good, all this shit is his fucking fault. What are you going to do? Wouldn't you like to know, so you can run off and tell him, maybe he'll give you a shag as a thank you, like you'll ever be grateful for that you filthy cocksucker.

              He didn't pistol whip me. He just punched me. And then threw me in here, the closet in Jake's room where I am now.

              For some reason the beat from the stereo that night at the party keeps going through my head as I sit here in the closet. Dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-da.

The Seventh Part - Jake’s Emails

68.
Hey Irish,

We arrived in New York today. Everything is very hectic. Have a sense that this entire endeavour could be a lot slower than I initially imagined. After a lot of discussion we have decided on some kind of plan. We will do a loop of the north-east, which could take a couple of months. The idea is that by the time the sperm clinics have vetted the sperm in the first places we get to, we will be arriving back and ready to make our deposit.

              We have two cars. And it seems I'm the only one with any money. You know James and Zach. There are five others. I don't think you've met them. I've asked them. I describe you as the cute Irish guy, and they don't recognise the description. I even tried to describe you as the not-so-cute tall Irish guy who's always very serious, and they didn't recognise that either. But they're good guys. None are particularly hot, but they seem very interested in what we are doing. Sustaining that interest is going to be a bit of a problem.

              Yeah, this is going to be an expensive endeavour. But it’s not because of all the travelling and accommodation, it’s just trying to keep them all in the booze and drugs they're accustomed to. I tried just giving people what they need, but that just gives rise to jealousy. If I give more to one than the other it just leads to complaints. So then I started giving them an allowance, if you can imagine that. I can only stretch to $200 a week. Which, between eight people, works out at quite a sum. But then Eli muttered something about getting more from working in a fast food shop, so I stopped that. Best not to put an exact price on what we are doing.

              To tell you the truth, if not for the play, I don't think I'd be able to hold onto them at all. None of them are particularly camp, particularly shrill. But the idea of re-writing the play and performing it seems to be appealing to some kind of dramatic tendency. We have re-jigged the play slightly. It’s a discussion of the play with flashbacks to moments in the performance. It manages to be different to what you wrote and also has the added benefit of more roles so everyone gets to have a part. That seems to be important.

              It’s a work in progress. I want to see how audiences react, then proceed with any further changes accordingly. We have our first performance in some small club in the village later tonight. The owner didn't seem to care what it was about, he just seemed happy that he'd have eight customers. The place is a hole.

              How is it going with Eric? Gotta say I'm a little envious. You'll have to tell me sometime about what you two get up to.

-Jake

69.
Hey,

So my initial suspicion was correct. Apart from a large patron of indeterminable gender we were the only ones in the club last night. We decided to perform it anyway. It was good to have a quick dress rehearsal.

              The owner seems happy to have us back again tonight, which will hopefully go a little better. I've been in touch with a local newspaper and asked them to send someone in to have a look at it. The fact that I'm the son of two congressmen might have been the deal maker. Don't know if it’s just a slow news day or if that was enough of a selling point, but they are going to send someone over. So there should be us, plus one, tonight.

              James is beginning to get a little moody. The other guys are getting quite bitchy. It’s amazing how a group of gays on a road trip can transform each other, not sure i'm immune either. Anyway, I've got him to spend the day phoning around sperm clinics in the area. There are dozens. I don't think he's a great thinker, but he does need to occupy his mind.

-Jake

70.
Well the journo who turned up did give us a small write-up. ‘Lincoln tells his story the way history should tell it.’ A small piece, but enough to spark a little bit of interest. The bar was nearly full on the fourth night. That’s the good news. Though doesn't take much to fill that bar, I gotta admit.