The Loss of Leon Meed. Josh Emmons
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Название: The Loss of Leon Meed
Автор: Josh Emmons
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
isbn: 9780007592913
isbn:
The man turned his head to face Shane. “Nope.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve seen you in here before. What’s your name?”
“Alvin.”
Shane was floating there, surveying the scene, the mist rising from the tumultuous water and Alvin Driscoll facing the back wall of the hot tub with his pelvis positioned where water was surging out and wasn’t that weird. “What are you doing?” Shane asked. “Are you sticking your dick in the jet?”
Alvin slid away from the jet and was visible only from the neck up, his curly black hair thick with water droplets. “No, I was just—Nothing.”
“Yes, you were. You had your dick in the jet.” Shane’s eyes gleamed with rheumy mirthlessness and he was light light light. “What are you going to do, cum into this public hot tub and anyone who gets in it later will be taking a bath in your sperm? Do you know how disgusting that is?”
“I don’t know you. You’d better leave me alone.”
“And what are you going to do about it, huh? You fucking queer. I bet you sit in here and stare at everybody’s dick while your own dick’s in the jets. Oh, man, that’s—”
“Leave me alone.”
“ ‘Leave me alone,’ yeah all right.” Shane turned to go and put his hand on the door and then stopped. “Just one thing first. Stand up. I want to see if you’ve been sticking your dick in the jets of this public hot tub. Just stand up. If you don’t have a hard-on, then fine, I’m wrong.”
“Go away.”
“I’ll kick your ass, you little faggot, if you don’t stand up right now.”
Alvin didn’t move, and within a second Shane flew into the water—he was all energy—and pulled him up by the armpit and saw that Alvin indeed had a flagging erection, all varicose veined and darkly pink, whereupon Shane began hitting him, first on the side of the head and soon Alvin’s ear and cheekbone were bleeding in a diluted smear of sweat and mist and blood, then in the chest and the groin and back to the face—great thumps and Shane’s knuckles were aglow with pain and light—and the smacking sound on the wet skin was like a horse whip and a few blows glanced off though most of them connected and with one well-aimed swing Shane heard and felt Alvin’s nose snap which precipitated almost immediately Alvin lowering his guard and slumping into the water on the verge of losing consciousness. Shane was lifting him up again for more comeuppance when he felt two huge men—weight trainers on the CalCourts staff—on either side of him in the hot tub, grabbing his arms and yanking them sharply behind his back, so that Shane screamed with pain as he was dragged out and into the locker room for ground restraint. Pinioned on the floor, his eyes thrashing about in their sockets, he saw Jim Sturges at the edge of a group of onlookers staring down at him, and he thought, There’s Jim Sturges. I hope he gives me a call soon, because I could set him up with a nice spot at Humboldt Overview Cemetery. The soul and the body. Doesn’t he know that they’re one and the same?
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