Travelin' Man by Tom Mendicino Page A

lucky she happened to catch that hopped-up meth head trying to walk out the door with it slung over his shoulder. And she was the one who insisted on driving him to the urgent care clinic and paying for a tetanus shot and an antibiotic for the infected bite on his cheek. She’s slipping him a few bucks under the table, putting his broad back and strong shoulders to use hauling heavy cases of liquor and beer up from the basement. He’s cheaper labor than a contractor. He knows how to use a hammer and a screwdriver and there are a million little jobs in the bar to keep him busy.
    It’s odd, strangely liberating, having no future ahead of him, no goals, no destination. It’s not entirely unpleasant being stuck in a holding pattern. He’s told Cole about the money being held captive in Florida. Cole thinks he should open an account at a local bank and tell this Mr. Freeman to make a wire transfer. He knows a lawyer who will sue the old man’s ass if he won’t give KC his money. But KC refuses Cole’s offer to threaten the only friend who ever tried to help him. He promises he’ll write the Coach when Cole gets back from California. He’s leaving for Los Angeles next weekend for two, almost three, weeks. He’s shooting in L.A. and San Francisco. He’s developed a loyal following on the Internet and demand for his services is peaking. The casting agent for Squirt Studios says Cole’s a sure bet for an AVA nomination for best Asian bottom. He’s not blowing his fees up his nose like most of the models. He wants to be an entrepreneur. He’ll have saved enough to produce his first video by the new year. He already has a name for his studio. Snake Eyes Productions. He thinks it would be a good investment for KC when he’s got his hands on his money.
    â€œAnd I ain’t just doing Asian shit either. I’m gonna have a brand. Like Falcon and Catalina. Lots of twinks getting rammed by straight dudes. I’m always looking for talent,” he teases KC, making him blush.
    KC alludes to his own unhappy experience before Darrell Torok’s camera. Cole’s intrigued, pressing him for details.
    â€œDude, that guy is a perv. You should have called the cops.”
    Cole says he’ll be able to concentrate on business in California knowing Ba and Ong are in good hands. He’s leased a new Audi for the road trip and is leaving the Explorer so KC can drive his grandparents around. KC’s settled in, a part of the household, with no good reason to leave. Lately he’s been thinking he might stay in Eugene, Oregon. It’s nicer than Albany, not as hot and sticky as Florida. He’s got friends here, unlike Texas where he doesn’t know a soul anymore. People seem to like him. No one treats him special, but no one thinks he’s a freak either. For the first time in his life, he isn’t keeping any secrets. He doesn’t have to lie about where he goes, what he does, who he does it with. No one cares that he likes to suck cock and no one judges him because he sometimes takes it up the ass. He almost feels normal here. He’s never felt normal before. Maybe he can even coach Little League if he’s still here in the spring.
    There’ll be plenty of time to think about his future while Cole is gone. Today there’s a party to throw. It’s Ong’s birthday and even Cole’s sister is joining the celebration. KC’s job is to pick up the cake at Safeway, a special order with extra frosting and plenty of buttercream flowers. It’s a beautiful evening, a full moon and clear skies, perfect for a barbecue. Strings of colorful Christmas lights illuminate the yard and the guy Cole’s sister swears is not her boyfriend (Cole says he deals prescription narcotics supplied by a connection in Canada) has come through with boxes of sparklers and firecrackers. He’s promising an impressive backyard fireworks display after