Stanley Elkin - The Magic Kingdom

Encouraged, but only almost buoyed. Too nervous still. And guilty, who still felt the humiliation of being so easily spotted and who recalled Gale’s knowing wink as forcefully as if it had been a slap. Who’d never flaunted it (and daunted by this vulgar man who did), who didn’t in even these compromised circumstances flaunt it now, and who might, so neutrally had they — the two Colins — behaved with each other in public, in the pubs they frequented, the theaters and concert halls they attended, have been taken for second cousins or businessmen or two distant acquaintances thrown together for the evening by the simple innocent agency of one or the other of them’s being in possession of an extra ticket. And even more humiliated by the memory of his own outrageous behavior at the health club, by his decoy ambush at the urinals, his skulking camouflage by the toilet stalls, by all his bad play-actor’s raving, put-on nonchalance: his prowled, clandestine presence near the equipment, covered in layers of stealth and insinuation as in a raincoat. So amusing to Matthew. Who’d called him “toots” and asked if he’d been waiting long.

He’d had second thoughts, but they’d been as much for poor old obsolescent Colin as for himself, and even after their encounter at the Spa he’d stalled Gale for two days now.

“You know what I think?” Matthew had said. “I think you’re a cock-tease.”

“No, I’m not,” Colin said. “That’s an awful thing to say.”

“What is it then, dearie, your time of month?”

“Please,” Colin said, “don’t be common.”

“Am I wasting my time with you, sailor? What sort of crap is this?”

“Can’t we get to know each other?” Colin said. “Can’t we just get to be friends first?”

“I know enough people. I’ve friends up the wazoo.”

“I told you,” Colin said, “I’m no light o’ love.”

“You sure ain’t. You’re the Blue Balls Kid.”

“I told you,” Colin mumbled, “I’ve this very special friend back in England.”

“Yeah, you told me. I just want you to know something, sister. I’m getting a little bit tired of these damned Coke dates of ours. I’m a certified faggot, I don’t believe in long courtships.” Matthew was off duty. They were sitting together at a table outside a café waiting for the fireworks to begin.

“You have to give me more time.” He sounded like a foolish girl. Even to himself.

“You know something? You’re one naive bimbo. What, you think you’re the only married man ever to have gone out of town? The only bespoke hubby at the convention? One-night stands are great. Foxy old grampas do it leaning against the rusted porcelain in tearooms.”

“I’m not a foxy old grandpa.”

“You’re telling me.” Matthew smiled, appraising him. “ You’re one bitch chick.”

“Please,” Colin said. “Don’t talk like that.”

“How do you expect me to talk, Miss Priss? I’m coming on. I’m paying you compliments. I’m no Lord What’shisname. I see a skirt I go for, I have to interrupt the programs. It’s just my way.” An umbrella of fireworks opened up over the Magic Kingdom, the red, blue, and green reflections running down their faces like greasepaint. “Ooh, ahh, eh, Doris?” Matthew Gale said.

Colin wouldn’t look at him.

“All right,” Gale had said, “all right, I’ll respect you in the morning. Anything. All I want is to get you in bed. You’re driving me nuts, you know that?”

“Poofs,” Colin said.

“I’m not so bad,” Matthew Gale said.

“Oh, no,” Colin Bible said, “you’re terrible.”

“I’m not terrible,” Matthew Gale said. “You want vulnerability? I’m vulnerable. Gentle sensitivity? I’m sensitive as dick. I’m telling you the truth, old girl. What do you think, I draw graffiti on the walls? I don’t even have a pencil.”

“Some recommendation that is,” Colin said.

“Oh, boy,” he said, “she talks dirty.”

“How old are you?” Colin asked.

“Twenty-six. Why?”

“You don’t look it.”

“A fag’s fate,” Matthew said, “his baby-face genes. Why?”

“You look like a teenager.”

“Oh,” Matthew said, “I get it. You’re afraid you might be contributing to the delinquency of a minor. Forget it. Be easy on that score. Thousands have given at the office.”

“You’re really twenty-six?”

“I’m fucking thirty, man,” Matthew said.

Because it was a test. Because he knew about the room now. “Listen,” he said, “I won’t leave the park. I shouldn’t even be out here with you.”

Under the table Matthew covered Colin’s crotch with his hand. “You’ll never believe what you’ve been missing,” he said. “You haven’t been blown till you’ve been blown by a Gale.”

Colin pushed his hand away. “I won’t do it in automobiles,” he said. “I won’t do it in holes and corners.”

“You limeys have class.”

“I mean it,” Colin warned.

“You want to get a room?”

“No,” he said. (Because it was still the test.)

“You want me to?” Matthew asked. “I mean I will if you want, though that could be risky. I mean I don’t mind about the money. It’s just that you say you won’t leave the park. And they know me at the Contemporary; they know me at the Polynesian and the Walt Disney World Village. I mean if you want me to sign in and then leave a note for you in a bottle, okay, I’ll do it, but this is a company town and if it ever gets back I’ll never haunt another mansion.”

“No,” he’d said, “you wouldn’t have to register.”

And Colin Bible told Matthew Gale about room 822.

So it was the ease with which Matthew passed the test and was able to produce a key to Mary Cottle’s room that enabled Colin to go through with it finally.

He waited until they were both naked until he asked him.

“What are you,” Matthew Gale said, “some kind of industrial spy?”

“Never mind about that,” Colin said, “can you do it?”

“I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do.”

“You know what you’re supposed to do. I just told you.”

“Manuals,” Matthew Gale said.

“That’s right.”

“Repair manuals.”

“And anything else you can get.”

“What do you think, I’m a mechanical engineer? I’m this good-looking fag with a charming manner and a winning smile. I couldn’t recognize blue prints. Animatronics! Jesus!”

“Just the repair manuals then. He’s very clever, Colin is. He could work backward from them.”

“God!” Matthew Gale said. “If you weren’t so well built…boy, oh, boy. What I did for love!”

“What we all did,” Colin said.

“I don’t even work at the Hall of Presidents!”

“I’ve no doubt you’ve your friends,” Colin said sweetly.

And then, without so much as even threatening him with exposure if he failed, Colin Bible, who was confident he wouldn’t, who believed in and accepted on trust the existence of a sort of spirit of freemasonry among them, a given, never-to-be-abused loyalty that was not only understood but actually available, actually advocated and depended upon between all the kinds and conditions of homohood, admitted Matthew Gale into Mary Cottle’s bed.

The acronym in Epcot Center stood for “experimental prototype community of tomorrow,” and the place itself was divided into two parts: Future World and World Showcase. Eddy Bale, who’d scouted it, didn’t think it was going to be much fun for the dying kids.

Something to do with that emphasis on the future, of course, but not entirely, not even chiefly.