CHAPTER SEVEN

WORDS FROM LONELY STREET

Betrayal, desire, lust words

spoken by a lonely pain drenched

heart, left void by escaping

words, trust, honesty, forever,

seeping from a gaping wound

that time and love can not heal.

Such a wounded heart can not

be healed even by the hand

of a preacher man backed

by God a high. Sex like a

serpent crawls into the soul

of a damaged heart and builds

it orgasmic nest and feeds off

the wounds. Only another scared

heart filled with words from

lonely street hope, need, praise

can heal a viperous heart, close the

wounds forge two hearts into one.

Tommy Frank Jones

The loud knocking woke Tommy Frank from a sound sleep. The banging on the door caused him momentarily to forget where he was. It was only when he flipped on the light switch and the image of the dirty brown room appeared did he fully come to his sense.

“Yea! Who is it?” He asked puzzled that anyone would know that he was living in the Rand House. He had only been there three days. He had four days until rent was due. All these thoughts raced through his mind as he sat up.

“Police! Open up!” Came a deep voiced response.

“Yes, Sir.” Tommy Frank answered immediately as he snatched a pair of dirty jockey shorts and hurriedly put them on even as he undid the night latch. “Yes, what can I do for you?” Tommy Frank asked glancing down at his watch. It was four a.m.

“Are you Tommy Frank Jones?” Asked a tough looking man in his late thirties. He was wearing regular clothes but held out a badge for Tommy Frank to inspect.

“My name is Officer Miller for homicide. I would like to ask you a few questions, Mr. Jones. Do you mind coming to the station?”

Being that it was only half of a block from the back door of the Rand House Tommy Frank shrugged and said, “No, but do you mind telling me what you want to question me about?”

“There has been a murder and we want to ask you a few questions about the victim, we have reasons to believe that you knew him,” The plain clothman said.

Suddenly every thing seemed to freeze. Tommy Frank saw the uniformed policemen behind Officer Miller with his hand resting on his pistol. What is happening? This is a dream. I am now going to wake up, Tommy Frank thought and closed his eyes. When he opened them, Officer Miller was still standing in front of him. “The victim’s name is . . .”

I don’t want to hear this. No wake up. It is a dream, a bad dream, hell a nightmare.

“Mr. Walter Wadkins. We would like to ask you a few questions about the last time you saw him!”

Office Miller kept talking but Tommy Frank didn’t hear anything beyond the name Walter Wadkins! No! He can’t be dead! Tommy Frank reached down and pinched his side. It hurt! Shit I am not dreaming! This is real. Walt is dead. Suddenly Tommy Frank’s legs went out from under him and he found himself on the floor.

“I never get over how these queers as such pussies,” the uniformed officer behind the plain clothman said as he peeked over the detective’s shoulders.

“Cool it, Peterson!” The detective hissed, irritable from having been dragged out of bed at three thirty in the morning. “Are you all right?” He asked dropping the Mr. crap.

“Yea,” Tommy Frank mumbled as he let the detective help him to his feet. “I’m ok now. Let me put on some clothes and I’ll be right with you,” Tommy Frank said in a stronger voice. Get a grip on yourself. This in not the time to act like a weakling. Be a man! Take it like a man. But God, I hurt! Walt! Walt! Walt!

“That’s all right but I have to remain here,” detective Miller said.

“Am I under arrest?” Tommy Frank asked.

“No, not yet, but we do have some tough questions to ask you. Hey, Peterson, why don’t you read him his right just in case he says something while I have a cigarette,” the detective said as he backed out of the door and motioned for the uniformed policemen to enter the room. “You seem so gunho you might as well do something.”

“Sure, Lieutenant!” The policeman said seeming not to catch the sarcasm in the detective voice.

Tommy Frank didn’t even bother listening to the Miranda Act. He knew it by heart from the television. He just nodded his head as he reached into a cardboard box next to the bed and pick out a T-shirt and sniffed it. It smelled like dirty socks so Tommy Frank threw it back and pulled out another. He reaped the process once more before finding one that passed the sniff test. His mind was like a stuck record the only thing running through it was one word. Walt, Walt, Walt, Walt, Walt, Walt. He grabbed a pair of clean jeans off the top of the television set and as the policeman watched he put them on. “I am ready,” he announced in a voice that he didn’t recognize as belonging to him. It seemed as though he was watching everything from outside his body.

In spite of the fact that it was only half of a block away they made him get into an unmarked police cruiser. They didn’t handcuff him. One part of his mind wondered why. They actually drove the car into the basement of the police station before parking.

The rest of the walk to a tiny little room with one table and three chairs was a blur. Tommy Frank remembered little of the quick walk. When he sat in one of the chairs, he put his head down on the table. Don’t cry. Be a man. Show them that you are tough. “What happened to Walt? Who killed him? How was he killed? Tommy Frank asked the question rapid fire as he glanced across the table at detective Miller.

“I am asking the questions,” the detective said. “Now maybe you will start by telling us where you were around one tonight?”

“I was in bed. I went out to the 801 earlier but went to my room around nine to write a poem for my creative writing class that the junior college,” Tommy Frank answered.

“Can anyone verify that you were in your room between one and two this morning?” the detective asked.

“No, I was by myself. I didn’t even leave my room to go to the bathroom,” Tommy Frank said remembering the intensity he had felt while writing the poem. That same intensity had kept him working on it until he had fallen asleep.

“Isn’t it a fact that you were living with Mr. Wadkins as recently as a few days ago?” The detective shot the question at Tommy Frank as thought it was an accusation.

“Yes, I moved out a few days ago. Walt made up with his old lover and I got a room at the Rand House. I have been staying there ever since.”

“Didn’t you walk in on Mr. Wadkins and his old lover having sex once?” The detective asked.

“Who has been telling you all this . . . Joe, it has got to be him!” Tommy Frank answered his own question.

“Hey, I am the one asking the questions,” the detective said sharply.

“Yes, I caught them having sex,” Tommy Frank admitted.

“I bet that made you mad as hell,” detective Miller said.

“It hurt me more than it made me mad,” Tommy Frank answered in a far away voice. Walt! Walt! Walt!

“I bet it made you mad enough that you wanted to kill him, didn’t it?” Detective Miller accused.

Tommy Frank shook his head. “I loved him. I still do. I didn’t really realize just how much until you told me he was dead.” Tommy Frank wiped tears from his cheeks. If only I had given Walt all my love. It only I had told him just how much I loved him, but it is too late, now.

“Who are you kidding? You didn’t love Mr. Wadkins! You were just using him. Then when you saw your free ride disappearing you got mad and killed him, didn’t you. Didn’t you?” Detective Miller shouted. “You followed him home from the restaurant and killed him! Admit it! You killed him.”

Tommy Frank slumped over in his chair as he shook his head vigorously, “No, no no!” He declared in a defiant voice. Then he looked straight into detective Miller’s eyes, “And don’t accuse me again,” he stated in a tone as sharp as a knife thrust.

The detective opened his mouth to speak but paused as though suddenly uncertain what to say.

The door to the small room opened. Tommy Frank glanced at it as a red headed man dressed in plain clothes entered. “How is it going?” He asked detective Miller as he completely ignored Tommy Frank.

“Fine, Ronnie. Everything is fine. I am about ready to book the kid,” detective Miller said standing up.

“Something else has come up,” the red headed man said as he nodded his head for detective Miller to follow him outside.

Surely they can’t really think that I could have hurt Walt. I would have rather hurt myself than to hurt him, Tommy Frank thought as he placed his dead in his hands.

As he waited for the detective to return Tommy Frank laid his head on the table, trying to shut out thoughts of Walt. It was impossible. He felt as thought someone had burned Walt’s name in his brain along with his image.

“You’re a long way from Higgs Beach, Kid,” called out a voice that made Tommy Frank bolt up right and brought the first smile of the night to his face.

“Jack!” Tommy Frank exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, Cindi called me and told me that two cops had taken you to the station house. I heard about the murder on my scanner and decided to come down. Sorry to hear about your friend getting his throat cut. The detectives told me about it,” the security office from Higgs Beach said.

Tommy Frank suddenly turned pale. He shook his head as he closed his eyes tight. “You know more than I do,” he said in a trembling voice. “All they told me is that he was dead. They didn’t tell me anything else,” Tommy Frank said as he tried to force a smile. “But why did you bother coming. Why do you care about what happens to me, nobody else does?” Tommy Frank said and broke down and started crying.

Jack stepped close and laid his hand on Tommy Frank’s shoulder. He responded by quickly grabbing the older man around the waist and pressing his face against Jack’s soft stomach as he sobbed uncontrollably.

“I care, Tommy Frank, I care.” Jack said as he rubbed the kid’s head. “Now come on and let’s go somewhere for a cup of coffee or something,” Jack added.

“You mean I can go? They are not going to arrest me?” Tommy Frank said, wiping his eyes.

“No, someone else was found dead, I don’t know who as nobody is talking, but it looks like you are off the hook. They said you could go,” Jack said as he padded Tommy Frank on the back. “So let’s get out of here and get that cup of coffee.”

“Sure! I need something to drink. And sorry that I am such a baby. I don’t usually cry, but. . . ?”

“Don’t worry about it, Kid. Come on,” Jack said as he motioned Tommy Frank to follow him. “Well, I don’t know of any place to get coffee this early in the morning except Jack’s cafe.”

“I never heard of it, where is it,” Tommy Frank asked as they exited the municipal building into the parking lot.

“My house!” Jack answered. “It is the best place in town for good simple food. I make a meat loaf that is pure heaven,”he said in such a cheerful voice that Tommy Frank found himself smiling again.

Jack’s house turned out to be a CBS, small and simple but nice. Tommy Frank’s mind was so confused that he really didn’t notice much about it.

“Jack, I really appreciate you coming down to the station,” Tommy Frank said as they both sat at the table sipping hot strong coffee. He had to pause, fighting back the tears. “There were just things that I wanted to say to Walt and now I never will be able to say them. I really don’t think he knew how much I loved him. I guess that in the back of my mind that I thought he and I would get back together. Now that is never going to be possible.” Tommy Frank said suddenly needing to tell someone had he felt.

“Life goes on, Kid. You’ll find someone else, mark my word,” Jack said with such a forceful tone that Tommy Frank glanced over at him.

“I hope so Jack. You know, I feel like I am not a whole person if I don’t have someone to love. When I was living with Jack, it was the only time in my life that I was content, happy. Since I moved out I have felt like a chicken with his head chopped off. I just can’t make it alone. I need someone to depend on and someone that depends on me.

“You got me, Kid,” Jack said

“No, Jack, I need a lover not just a friend. I thought I had found it with Walt. Maybe if I had been true to him instead of whoring around things would have been different. Maybe he would have loved me as much as I loved him. Maybe he knew that I wasn’t being true to him.” Tommy Frank shook his head. “I just wish I could do it all over again. If I ever get another chance at love, I am it is going to be different.”

“Kid, you will have many chances. As good looking as you are, half of Key West would love to rope you. Heck, you’ll probably have to beat them off.” Jack said.

“I’m looking for love, Jack, not sex. I’m looking for real love, and I am beginning to think that doesn’t exist. At least not in the gay world.” Tommy Frank said in a sad voice.

“It exists, Kid, believe me it exists. Love is love no Mattter if it is between man and woman or man a man. You’ll find it,” Jack said and winked at Tommy Frank. “And maybe sooner than you think.”

“I think I had better get back to the famous Rand House,” Tommy Frank said as he stood up. “Thanks for the coffee, Jack.”

“There’s no need to rush off. You can stay here if you want, if you feel that you need some company,” the older man said quickly.

“Right now, I need to be alone. I got a lot of thinking to do and some tears to shed and I want to do it in private,” Tommy Frank said.

“Then let me drive you back downtown,” Jack offered rising from his seat.

“No, I want to walk. It will do me good. And Jack thanks . . . I . . .” Tommy Frank just shrugged unable to finish the sentence. “Later,” he managed to say before turning and hurrying out.

Watch yourself Tommy Frank. It will not do you any good to fall in love with him. He is straight. Tommy Frank told himself as he walked at a fast pace. Right when you think it can’t possibly get any worst it does. What can possibly happen next?

Tommy Frank could see the first rays of morning as the entered the Rand House. He didn’t even take his clothes off. He just dropped on the bed and after a period of silent sobbing on his pillow he drifted off to sleep.

I should call Walt. I haven’t heard from him in a long time. I don’t understand why he and I are not living together more. I’ll give him a call and tell him I want to move back in with him. Let’s see what is his telephone number. I can’t remember, I can’t remember!

Tommy Frank sat up and glanced around as thought looking for a telephone. Then he slumped over as he realized that he had been dreaming. Walt was dead. He couldn’t call him. He never would be able to talk to him again. He never would be able to tell him how much he had loved him and that he was sorry that he hadn’t been loyal. As all these thoughts raced through his mind, Tommy Frank buried his face in his hands.

Enough! Get a grip on yourself! Tommy Frank glanced at his watch. It was after eleven. Got to get a job! He held onto that thought as though it was a life persevere as he got dressed.

“I bet you didn’t get much sleep last night,” Cindi called out as Tommy Frank passed her open door.

“Oh, Cindi, thanks for calling Jack. I really needed someone last night,” Tommy Frank backed up to say.

“What was all of that about, anyway?” Cindi asked.

“The guy that was killed last night was a friend of mine, actually my ex-lover,” Tommy Frank admitted. He was already sure that she knew that he was gay.

“Have you read the headlines of the Citizen this morning?” Cindi said. “There were two people murdered,” she added holding up a copy of the Key West Citizen. “Here, this might interest you,” his landlord said, handing the thin newspaper to him.

“TWO GAY MEN FOUND DEAD!” Tommy Frank read the headlines out loud.

“You all have got a bad apple in your mists,” Cindi said, “There has been lots of mugging of gay tourist and locals and now the owner of Artist Cafe and a bartender from the Copa found murder. If I was you, I would watch my step late at night,” Cindi added.

That’s why they let me go. They found the second body, Tommy Frank thought as he read the article. Then as he came to the name of the bartender he read it out loud. Dan Walcowski! Wasn’t the name of Jesus’ lover Dan? Damn! Walcowski was the old Pollack’s last name. Oh my God! Dan was the old man’s son! That’s why he had seen Jesus coming out of the bathroom at the fort at Higgs Beach. He knew about the drug deals there from Dan. Tommy Frank felt suddenly sorry for Werner. The old man must be grieving terribly for his son. Tommy Frank had sensed that the old man really had loved his son very much. Now his son was dead. Maybe I should go to him? Tommy Frank thought as he read some more of the story.

Jesus! He did it! The words burned through Tommy Frank’s mind as he read that the police were looking for Jesus Martinez for questioning. That’s the reason that they let me go. He killed Walt and his own lover! Tommy Frank had to grab the door frame of the office to keep from falling.

“Are you all right?” Cindi asked with genuine concern on her face.

“Yea, it just that I know the guy they are looking for. I am sure that he killed them. He used to work at Artist Cafe. Seems that he and I have been running into each other ever since I arrived here,” Tommy Frank said talking to himself as much as he was to Cindi. “Thanks, Cindi,” he said, handing her back the paper.

“You can keep it if you want too,” the thin tough looking woman said and flashed her tight smile.

“No, I have read more than I can handle for one day,” Tommy Frank said as he walked away rather rudely although it was not his indent.

As Tommy Frank left the Rand House he couldn’t get Werner out of his mind. He liked the old man. He didn’t really know just how much. Again he considered going to the old man. He needed someone now and felt sure that Werner did too.

As he thought of the old Pollack, Tommy Frank felt hope for himself. Yet, he was frightened. He had given himself to Walt and looked what had happened. He just wasn’t ready to open his heart to someone else, he just wasn’t ready to get hurt again. He knew that the old man liked him, but he wasn’t going to rush into a relationship while still grieving over Walt and with Werner grieving over his son. They were both too vulnerable. Maybe he shouldn’t go, not just yet. It wouldn’t be fair to Werner or himself. And the old man had to want him for himself and not to replace a lost son and like wise he had want Werner for himself too. Wait! Make sure this time what you want and make sure that they want you, Tommy Frank told himself.

Hoping to be able to focus his mind on something except Walt, Tommy Frank turned his thoughts to what he had would do today. Yesterday he had applied at the Twisted Noodle, Antonio’s, Lotsa Pasta, and Square One. Surely he would be able to land a job at one of them. After all he had been a waiter at the most prestigious restaurant in town, if only for a short period of time.

Tommy Frank tried to put on a smile as he stopped by the Twisted Noodle. It was difficult trying to act normal when he felt so awful inside, but he knew that if he stayed in his room he would only get more depressed.

His hopes of a job waiting tables were soon dashed when he stopped by the Twisted Noodle.

“To be totally honest with you, I was going to hire you until I called Cafe Des’ Artistes. Joe didn’t have anything good to say about you, which I actually thought was odd. In the past I have called him and even if he thought the person was terrible he would sort of beat around the bush and sugar coat his criticism. He was very blunt about you, Tommy Frank. So blunt that even if what he says isn’t true, I can’t take a chance,” The blond woman that owned the Twisted Noodle explained.

“But Joe wasn’t working there when I was there!” Tommy Frank protested.

“Did you hear about what happened to Walt Wadkins?” The woman had asked. “I bet he left everything to Joe. He was always the real reason the Cafe Des’ Artistes was so successful. Didn’t you know that? Without him, Walt was lost. The past year the restaurant has been losing ground.”

“You watch, it will be back to its old self in a mattter of weeks, even without Walt, if he left it to Joe. So if he says that you are not a good waiter that carries a lot of weight in this town. At least with any restaurant that wants to be tops. Without a good recommendation from him you’ll be lucky to get a job at Mac Donalds.” The owner of the Twisted Noodle said.

Although no one else went into detail, the other mangers or owners of the restaurant that Tommy Frank had applied to all declined to give him a job and none offered a real explanation.

“Sorry to hear about Walt. I knew that even though you two had broken up that you still cared a lot for him,” Billy, the bartender at the 801, said when Tommy Frank stopped in at the bar and ordered a Bud. “If there is anything I can do, just let me know?” He added as he placed the beer on the counter.

“Billy, you know what the worst part is?” Tommy Frank said after turning up the can drink down half the beer before taking it away from his lips. “They actually thought I did it. The police came and drug me out of bed at four this morning. If they hadn’t discovered the body of Jesus’s lover or ex-lover, they would have arrested me for Walt’s murder. Isn’t that something?”

“Yea, I would have freaked out. But you are a long stronger than I am,” Billy said.

“What is almost as bad is that I can’t even go over to Walt’s house. Not with Joe there. He hates my guts. He’s keeping me from getting a job as a waiter,” Tommy Frank confided.

“Doesn’t surprise me. I have never liked him. He’s got a bitch streak in him that makes me look like Cinderella,” Billy said as he moved away to wait on another customer.

“So, I gather the job search didn’t go anywhere, Tommy Frank?” Billy said when he came back.

“Looks as though I have been blacked balled!” Tommy Frank almost raved.

“Honey, you just don’t know these Key West queens. When you cross them, they are bitches. And Joe is one of the worst ones. I never could see what Walt saw in him. Hell, his face is like sand paper.” Billy said as he handed Tommy Frank another Bud and took his money. “Do you think Jesus is still in town?” He added.

“If he has got half a brain, which I have serious doubts about, he’ll be in Miami by now,” Tommy Frank said. I hope to hell that is true. I never want to see that guy again, never.

“Did you know, Dan, the bartender at the Copa?” Billy asked.

“I never met the guy but I know his father. He works at Higgs Beach raking up trash,” Tommy Frank answered as he took a big swallow of his beer.

“Well, I knew him. He used to come here off and on. He seemed like a very nice guy, too nice to get mixed up with Jesus. Jesus hasn’t been anything but trouble since he arrived. He would knife his own mother if she got in his way. Never could understand how he landed a job at Artist Cafe. He must have been doing some in and out with either Joe or Walt. Oh, sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said that.

“Word is that Jesus has a fourteen-inch cock! Don’t know if that is true, but I saw him leave here with more than one customer and the next day the same customer was walking sort of funny, if you know what I mean.” Billy said. “Hell, I am getting myself hot just thinking about such a big cock,” Billy added fanning himself.

“As big as your pussy is, I bet it would take something that long to get you hot,” a customer from the other side of the bar called out.

“Well, Bruce, I bet your pussy is bigger than mine. I heard that you bought the biggest dildo they had at Alligator Video Store,” Billy shot back and he began to wash glasses.

“Where is your dog, Microwave?” Tommy Frank asked. He like seeing the little ugly spiny haired dog lying in the corner of the bar or up on the bar greeting customers.

“Oh, he went up stairs to take a nap on the sofa,” Billy said as he motioned up toward the second floor piano bar. He glanced at his watch. “He always likes to take a nap around this time.”

“So do I,” the man that Billy had called Bruce called out, “but I like to take my nape with good-looking young blond guys.”

“Well, you are out of luck with Tommy Frank here. He likes them so old that they have one foot in the grave. Isn’t that right, Tommy Frank?” Billy said with a wink.

“Yes, they can have one foot in the grave but not their cock,” Tommy Frank answered. He like Billy and his sense of humor. The two had hit if off from the first time that Tommy Frank had come into the 801 during the day.

“So what are you going to do now? About a job, I mean,” Billy asked.

“I really don’t know. I am fast running out of money. I’ll be out on the street next week if I don’t find something really fast,” Tommy Frank said.

“Well, I know one job that you can get.” Billy said in a funny tone.

“I am afraid to ask what it is?” Tommy Frank said.

“Well, with your good looks and nice body, you can always work the strip show at Numbers or at One Saloon.” Billy informed him.

“I don’t know, I think I would like stripping in front a room full of men but it seems to much like being a hustler,” Tommy Frank said.

“Hey, it is what you make it. If you don’t want to be a hustler then dancing isn’t going to make you one. You can always say no if someone offers you money for sex,” Billy reminded him.

“You are right, you are exactly right, Billy. I think I’ll see if I can get a job at the One Saloon,” Tommy Frank said suddenly remembering how exciting it was when he had done a strip tease for someone recently.

“Tell you want, I’ll call the bartender at the One Saloon and tell him that you want to try out tonight. Anyway it is aMatteur night so there will not be any problem. Do good and they will ask you to dance on a regular basics,” Billy said.

Tommy Frank finished his beer and went back to the Rand House and to the privacy of his tiny room. It seemed that when he turned on the air conditioner and closed the door that he was in another world. A totally private world. Do I really want to be a stripper? Tommy Frank asked himself as he lay on the bed staring up at the slowly moving blades of the ceiling fan. No but I got to make money some how and I can’t live off what Mac Donalds pays, not in Key West.

Tommy tried to sleep but keep thinking of Walt and couldn’t. Finally he sat up and reached for his spiral notebook. He had an assignment due for Mr. Fish tomorrow and wanted to get it in on time. Writing for Mr. Fish creative writing course had kept him sane the past few days since he and moved into the Rand House. Writing and talking to Jack. He still couldn’t get over how Jack had came to the station. I got to stop thinking about him. He is straight. He might see me as a son but he isn’t interested me as a lover. If I reached down and touched his crotch he would probably have me arrested. I got enough complications in my life without falling in love with him. Better to go for the Pollack.

Tommy Frank tried to put all thoughts of Jack or Werner out of his mind as he began to write. It worked. When he was writing stories for class all his problems and worries fell away like rain drops from a steep tin roof. He didn’t even think about Walt. With an intense expression on his face, Tommy Frank wrote and rewrote the story he was writing. When he had the story just the way he wanted it, he put the notebook and pencil down. He stretched his cramped muscles. Tommy Frank felt as though he had been doing hard manual labor for hours. His mind felt numb and that was just want he wanted.

“I’ll just rest of a few moments, Tommy Frank thought as he stretched out on the bed. “Just for a moment.”

_____________________________________________________

When Tommy Frank woke he experienced a few seconds of peace of mind before the knowledge of Walt’s death surfaced to send his thoughts into turmoil. He sensed it was late even as he glanced at his watch. It was past eight. The aMatteur stripper contest started at nine. Time to get moving. I don’t want to do this, Tommy Frank thought as he forced himself to get out of bed. You got to do what you have to do, he reminded himself as he took a quick shower. As he was drying off, he had an idea for dancing. When he left his room, he took a clean towel with him.

Although the One Saloon had only been open for thirty minutes or so when Tommy Frank arrived, it was already packed. Mostly the customers were young men dressed in jeans and T-shirts but in the crowd Tommy Frank passed a few older men as he bought a beer and cruised the crowd trying to get a feel for it.

“What am I doing here?” Tommy Frank thought as he went back to the bar and sought the eye of one of the bartenders.

“Yes?” The young man dressed in a Grateful Dead T-shirt and jeans asked.

“I am Tommy Frank Jones. Billy from the 801 called and got my name on the list of aMatteur dancers tonight. When do I go on and where do I dance?” Tommy Frank asked.

“Take a number!” The young bartender said holding out a plastic bowel.

Tommy Frank reached in and grabbed one of the folded pieces of paper from inside. He opened it. Number three was printed on it in bold ink. He handed it to the bartender.

“What did you say your name was again?” The bartender asked as he took the slip of paper and reached for a pen.

“Tommy Frank Jones,” he told the bartender, “And where do we dance?”

“On top of the bar in the next room. Did you bring your own music?” The bartender asked.

“No.”

The bartender shook his head. “So what music do you like to dance too?” He asked. “You people should know to bring your own music.”

“I’ll dance to anything you put on. Doesn’t Mattter to me?” Tommy Frank said as he drained the can of beer. “Do you give the dancers free beer?” He asked getting pissed off at the bartender with each passing moment.

“Yea, we give free drinks to the participants, no Mattter how bad they dance,” the bartender said as he with a sneer on his face.

“Wait until you see me dance before you make a judgment, I can already see that you don’t have good taste in music,” Tommy Frank said just to get under the young man’s skin even though he liked the Grateful Dead.

The bartender almost slammed his Bud on the counter.

“Thanks,” Tommy Frank said in his most friendly voice. Then he took his beer and headed for the next room which had a long bar and a pool table. There was yet another room past it with a dance floor, but the crowd was mostly in the middle bar waiting for the dancers.

If I drink enough maybe I’ll forget about everything, Tommy Frank thought as leaned up against the pool table with his beer and waited for the first contestant.

“When do they start?”

Tommy Frank looked behind him to see who was asking him the question. It was a dark haired young man with a mustache and beard. “Don’t ask me. It’s my first time to one of these. But I think it should be any time.” Tommy Frank said trying to be friendly in spite of the fact that he wasn’t attracted to young men no Mattter how good looking and at the moment wasn’t particular interest in talking to anyone.

“I was here last week for aMatteur night and they were awful,” said another voice to Tommy Frank’s right.

Tommy Frank turned to face the man that had spoken. He was an older man balding man so chubby that he was almost fat. Tommy Frank figured him to be sixty. Even though he didn’t have gray hair Tommy Frank found him interesting looking. The man’s face looked very fatherly. “Maybe they will be better tonight.” Tommy Frank said and smiled. I have never done a strip tease in front of a crowd but I have danced alone all my life. There is no reason why I can’t do a good job dancing tonight. I wonder what Walt would think if he was still alive. Nothing! Stupid. He left you for Joe! You keep forgetting that!

“Well it doesn’t cost anything so I guess I shouldn’t complain,” the older man said. “Are you from Key West?” He asked Tommy Frank.

“I am as a part of Key West as you can get. Feel like I have lived here all my life, but am from Alabama,” Tommy Frank answered as he looked more closely at the man. He noticed the Rolex watch and the gold chain around the man’s neck. His shirt was expensive silk not the cheap Chinese silk you could get at J. C. Penny and his pants were raw linen. I bet he is wearing Bally shoes, Tommy Frank thought.

“How long have you lived here?” The man asked.

“Only a few months?” Tommy Frank answered as he took a drink of his beer.

“I live here part of the year and the rest of the time I live in Nantucket,” the man answered as he sipped his martini. “I like to come here and watch the dancers. It is as close as I can get to hot young bodies without paying them. Which I do from time to time,” the man said. “I bet you practically live here,” he added looking deep into Tommy Frank’s eyes.

“Actually, this is my first time here for aMatteur night. Until recently I worked as a waiter at Artist Cafe and didn’t go to bars very often and when I do it is usually to the 801 or Papillon,” Tommy Frank explained. “But if you are looking for a hustler I am sure that you’ll find there here, but I am not one of them.”

“Oh, Papillon is always full of old alcoholics and is so dingy. The 801 is a little better,” the man said ignoring Tommy Frank’s remarks. “By the way my name is Clyde,” he added.

“I’m Tommy Frank.”

“Well, Tommy Frank, I am glad to meet such a nice looking sexy young man especially that you don’t mind talking to a wide body old man like me,” Clyde said.

“Thanks, I think you are nice looking yourself,” Tommy Frank said.

“Sure, if you like them old, wide bodied and wrinkled then I am at the top of the list,” Clyde said and patted his extruding stomach.

“Well, Clyde, as a Mattter of fact, I only like older men and I don’t mind in the least if they are little overweight, which you just might be,” Tommy Frank said. But you are a little bit prissy, he thought to himself.

“God, forbid, you don’t have to agree with everything I say. You should say no! You are not overweight at all,” the man said and smile such a silly way that Tommy Frank laughed. “Well, I do say, this might be my big night. The lord knows I haven’t had many of them the past few years. You just keep talking to me so that my hormones will start acting up and maybe if nothing else I’ll get a buzz from that,” Clyde said as he grabbed hold of Tommy Frank’s muscular arm. “My, my, I haven’t felt muscles like that since I left the farm.”

Tommy Frank laughed again. He is just what the doctor order. I don’t think I could put up with him every day, but tonight I enjoy his company, Tommy Frank though as he looked him over. He like the man even though he wasn’t as straight acting as what he usually went for. Clyde, actually had a straight appearance until he moved and revealed his swishy body movements.

“Can I have your attention? One Saloon is proud to present aMatteur strip night. The first contestant is Buck Dent. Let’s give him a big hand,” the bartender announced and clapped his hands to encourage a similar response from the audience.

“Wow, look what a hunk he is!” Clyde called out. “He could make those ass movements in my bed any old time.”

Tommy Frank watched the short muscular guy moving to the beat of the music. He wasn’t too bad but there was an awkwardness about his movements typical of a body builder. Yet, there was no denying that Buck had plenty of biceps and triceps and enjoyed flexing them for everyone to see.

“Oouuu, I do like him,” Clyde said and how about you,” he said nudging Tommy Frank in the side with his elbow. “Is that your type?”

“No, he is too young for me. I like older men. You are more my type,” Tommy Frank said. At least for tonight.

“My how kind you are to an old man. You must be looking for someone to buy your next beer,” Clyde said. “And you just found someone.” He added and dug his elbow back into Tommy Frank’s ribs.

Tommy Frank just shook his head. He like the man and wasn’t going to be too sensitive about such remarks. He knew that he wasn’t looking for free drinks or money for sex so it didn’t Mattter what the man said.

“My, my!” Clyde added when the young muscle man stripped down to a G-string, “Too bad they don’t have exercises for cocks too, because his little thing has a bad case of tired blood from the size of the bulge. I do hope we get one with a nice size piece of meat before the night is over. I do want something to think about later when I am in bed alone and naked,” He added looking up into Tommy Frank’s face, “Or will I have company for the night?” He said and smiled.

Tommy Frank returned his smile but didn’t comment.

The crowd erupted it applause as the muscular young man reached down and pulled his G-string open and let customers come forward and stuff money into it as they also cropped a feel of his cock. When his dance was finished, the bulge of money was bigger in his G-string than his cock bulge.

“Now we have a special dancer from the islands, let give, Barrett St. James, a big hand,” the bartender called out as a slim black man climbed onto the bar dress in a white blouse and white pants. He began moving quickly to the fast rap beat. He lacked the muscles of the former guy but he moved with the fluidity of a snake charming its prey. He was pure hustler and he looked it to Tommy Frank.

“Well, that’s rough trade if my tired old eyes are still a judge,” Clyde said. “But at least when you go after someone looking like that you know what you are getting,” he added as he gave Tommy Frank a raised eye brow look.

“I am not a hustler if that is what you are insinuating,” Tommy Frank said and smiled. “I just happen to like older men.”

“Why, Child, I think that is great. And before the night is over I aim to see just how much you like older men, at least one slight over weight and under sexed older man,” Clyde added.

Tommy Smiled and nodded. I can’t believe I am actually enjoying myself. Makes me feel sort of guilty.

“Well, his cock certainly is not oversized for his race but he sure has the muscle man beat,” Clyde said as he fanned himself with his free hand. “It is enough to give a girl hot flashes thought. Now, I am not a size queen, but I do like enough meat in my mouth to know it’s a cock and not a gherkin.” Clyde added.

The applause for the black kid was louder than for the first dancer.

“Now, it is time for our third contestant,” The bartender looked around as though trying to find someone. “At least I think we will have a number three. If you are here, Tommy Frank Jones, it’s show time,” the bartender roared.

Clyde glanced over at Tommy Frank with his mouth wide open in astonishment.

“You heard the man, it is show time. Catch you later, Clyde.” Tommy Frank said as he pushed his way through the crowd. When he reached the bar he did a special mount he had used as a kid whenever he rode old man Johnson’s mean mule. Tommy Frank wasn’t a trained gymnast, but he moved with the grace of one as he vaulted on the bar to the blast of a hard rock song.

All the eyes locked onto him caused Tommy Frank to instantly get sexually excited. Even as he made his first movements in time with the quick wild beat, his cock began to swell. The crowd spotted the growing bulge in his pants almost immediately and began to stomp their feet to the music as they chant “Show it! Show it!”

Tommy Frank got lost in the dance. He became one with the music. He let the music move him. He didn’t repeat a basic move over and over again like the previous two dancers had. He did a wild dance full of steps and movements that he had never made before. He created the dance as the music spoke to him while skillfully removing first his shirt and then his pants, but just before his pants dropped to reveal his rock hard cock he scooped the towel he had brought with him off the counter of the bar. With the towel hiding a bigger cock than most of the men in the bar had ever dreamed of seeing, Tommy Frank continued to dance as men fought to give him money.

Tommy Frank only let people look under the towel if they gave enough money. He wasn’t a hustler but he was an entertainer and wanted to get paid for performing. There were many willing the pay the price and some came back time after time. Tommy Frank danced through the complete song three times before he finally froze in a provocative position at the finish of he song and signaled to the bartender to kill the music.

The bar room broke out into a roar that could be heard a block away. Tommy Frank dropped down behind the bar and quickly dressed as customers fought to look over the bar hoping to get a glance of him naked. Then he vaulted over the bar among his admires. They made a path for him as he walked back to where Clyde was standing beside the pool table. Everyone seemed to be in awe of Tommy Frank.

“Well, that was some show. I don’t know what to say. I didn’t take a peek under the towel as I was hoping for a private showing. However, Honey Child, from the way it was sticking out it looked like you had a pole stuck between your legs. I do think you have a mouth full even for a big mouth like me,” Clyde said. “Did you make lots of tips?”He added as he stared down at the money sticking out of Tommy Frank’s jean’s pockets.

“I don’t know. Why don’t we go over to the 80l and have a drink and I’ll count it?” Tommy Frank said.

“But don’t you want to stay and see who win the contest?” Clyde asked.

“Nope, I have had my fun for the night and got paid for it,” Tommy Frank said.

“I do think old Clyde has come across an original,” Clyde said as he followed Tommy Frank out of the bar.

There was almost no one in the 801 when they arrived. Billy was gone and Char, a tiny blond with a smile a mile wide had replaced him. She was known as the party queen. She had raised more money for aids through a series of parties that she had given than on one else in Key West. Her parties were real events.

“So how much did you take in tonight, if it is any of my old business,” Clyde asked. “I am just curious at how much a male striper can make.”

Tommy Frank pulled money out of both pockets of his jeans and started counting.

“I must say that I have seen tons of dancers but never have I saw one put on a show like you.”

“You’re kidding me,” Tommy Frank said and blushed slightly.

“Tommy Frank, you are a natural born dancer especially with that slim muscular body. Pumping iron could never produce such natural looking muscles like you have.”

“No, I have never worked out in a gym,” Tommy Frank agreed.

“I guess that everyone tells you what a beautiful body you have, so it coming from an old tired queen like me doesn’t mean very much,” Clyde said as he took a big sip from his martini he had ordered. “The only time I see a beautiful body is when I watch a stripper or pay a hustler to come home with me.” Clyde said. “Now tell me how much you made.”

“Three hundred dollars!” That more than I had ever thought of making just dancing for thirty minutes.

“That’s more that I ever heard of someone making on aMatteur night!” Clyde said. “But then you don’t see too many beautiful boys get a hard on while they dance. People will definitely pay to see a cock as big as I think yours is hard. I do hope that I will get a chance to see it?” Clyde said with a flutter of his dark eye lashes.

Tommy Frank laughed and said, “Don’t worry you’ll get a chance tonight even.” I need him to keep from thinking about Walt.

“Wow, I feel like I just won the lottery!” Clyde said. “You certainly know how to cheer up an old wide bodied queen.”

“I think you are the one cheering me up,” Tommy Frank corrected Clyde as he turned the can of Budweiser up and drained it.

“Now, why would a great looking young guy like you need cheering up for. Heck, you have the world at your feet. You have got it all, good looks, big cock, youth, and brains. There probably wasn’t a man in the bar that wouldn’t have jumped into the sack with you at the snap of a finger. Just wait until you get to be my age and see how much you are worth on the gay meat market. If you want some young stud you have to pay for it? The only love you get it that which you buy by the hour or day,” Clyde said in a suddenly serious voice.

“I think you are all wrong, Clyde. There are lots of young guys like me that only like older men. I think that you go after hustlers because you don’t want to get rejected. Hey, we all get rejected. That part of life,” Tommy Frank said as he caught Char’s attention and held up two fingers. I got rejected and there is no way that I can ever win Walt back, Tommy Frank thought as he ordered two more drinks.

“I can’t believe that anyone would ever reject a hunk like you. If they did, they should have had their head examined. I would never be guilty of kicking a good looking, nice guy like you out of my bed. Of course, I would never get one like you in bed with me to start with,” Clyde said.

“I don’t consider myself good-looking, but you certainly are going to have me in bed with you tonight, if that’s what you want,” Tommy Frank said as he paid for the drinks that Char brought. “Keep the change,” he told her.

“In that case why don’t we drink up and get the hell out of here before the stroke of midnight and my coach turns to a pumpkin and my prince charming turns into rough trade,” Clyde said as he looked Tommy Frank straight in the eyes.

Tommy Frank winked and they both touched drinks and took long swallows.

“I am ready now,” Tommy Frank stated as he put his beer on the counter.

“Those words are music to this old queen’s ears. Speaking of which, let’s get the H out of here and make some music of our own,” Clyde said as he stood up and drained the last of his martini and put the empty glass on the bar. “Ready,” Clyde added as he walked away.

Tommy Frank shook his head. He liked the man. Sure he was a little on the feminine side but he was also handsome in the fatherly way at times and that turned him on.

“We can walk to my humble abode if you don’t mind,” Clyde said. “I hate to pay for cabs. Guess it is the Scot in me. I just hate to spend money.”

“I don’t have that problem because I never have any to spend,” Tommy Frank said. He probably lives in one of the run down conch houses like Bill and Jim. Just hope it isn’t as dirty as theirs was, Tommy Frank thought as he walked side by side with Clyde.

When they turned down Angela Street and walked past the Rand House, Tommy Frank debated telling Clyde that he was staying there, but decided against it. The man already probably had a low opinion of him and he didn’t want to make it worst. But when Clyde crossed the street and headed toward what once had been the Garden Hotel, Tommy Frank began to wander.

“Here we are, home!” Clyde said as he fished in his pocket for his keys.

“Someone told me that this used to be a fancy hotel called the Garden Hotel,” Tommy Frank said.

“Yes, I bought it as a hotel but didn’t like having guests that weren’t friends staying so near to me. One complained about the color of the wall paper and I threw him out and closed the doors to guests. I had thought I would get plenty of good-looking boys like you and get fucked every night, but only old trolls like me seem to have enough money to stay in an up scale guest house. I bet you stay in one of the cheep places,” Clyde said. “Come on into my humble abode.”

“Yea, it is about as humble as Buckingham Place,” Tommy Frank remarked as he got his first look at the gardens. Even at night they were spectacular. Tommy Frank paused, “I want to see this during the day,” he added before catching up with Clyde.

“Oh, you can come over and see it anytime you like, in fact, I am thinking of chaining you to the bed post and not letting you out of my sight, you handsome devil. And I am in too much of a rush to get fucked by that big cock of yours to give you the customary tour,” Clyde said as he opened a small side door to the main house and quickly punched in numbers for the alarm. “I hate this thing. I’m always afraid that I will forget the combination and all hell will break loose when I open the door.”

Tommy Frank took one look at the entrance way and realized that Clyde’s furniture was as much better than Walt’s as Walt’s was the Rand House. It was as though he had suddenly stepped straight into the cover of Architectural Digest. And as Tommy Frank followed Clyde through room after room he figured that some of the chairs alone were worth a hundred thousand dollars each. At least they looked like ones he had seen in Architectural Digest at that price. The man is a millionaire!

“Here we are. My bedroom. The place where I deflower all the young and handsome men in Key West,” Clyde said. “At least that is what some people think. I just wish it was true. Heck, I can’t even get another old troll to deflower me. And it takes fists full of money to get the young and beautiful of Key West this far back into the bowels of the house.”

“Well, it didn’t take a fist full of money to get me here,” Tommy Frank reminded him.

“You, Dear Child, are an exception to the rule. I am so glad that such a handsome stud like you could be born with an affliction for old men, especially a wide bodied old queen like me. Now show me that you are completely sincere buy stripping and exposing yourself to me,” Clyde said as he began to undress himself.

Tommy Frank removed his T-shirt as he watched the older man slowly unbutton his silk shirt. Clyde’s body wasn’t particular appealing but it didn’t turn him off enough that his cock wouldn’t get hard. Tommy Frank slowed down and waited until Clyde was stripped down to his under shorts. Then as they watched each other, both lowered his final piece of clothing, Tommy Frank his jeans and Clyde his boxer shorts.

“Lord all mighty! I never saw one so thick and only a few longer. Son, you have a beautiful cock, no, you have a spectacular cock,” Clyde exclaimed then he looked down at his own cock. “My, my, I am ashamed of mine more than normal when I compare it to your monster.”

Tommy Frank stepped up to the overweight older man and took his circumcised cock in his hand. It was short and oddly shaped being thick at the base and only the diameter of a pencil at the head. “You have a nice cock,” he lied. “And I like your tight balls,” he told the truth.

“Well, you are a dear child to tell me such nice lies but I will not hold you to them. I will not force you to do anything to my deformed member if you will only kiss me passionately and fuck my brains out with monster cock of yours,” Clyde said as he grabbed Tommy Frank and kissed him.

Tommy Frank returned the kiss. He didn’t have much feeling for Clyde beyond a desire to have sex with him, but he tried to hide his lack of passion. He must have succeeded as Clyde went wild. He embraced Tommy Frank so hard that he couldn’t breathe. If having sex with someone that you are really not attracted to is this easy, then I can see why guys become hustlers, Tommy Frank found himself thinking.

“Fuck me! Take my asshole like Sherman took Atlanta, make it burn, Tommy Frank!” Clyde called out as they both got into the big four post antique bed. “Use that big piece of mean on me. Stretch my asshole like it has never been stretched before. Fuck me!”

They kissed again as hands explored strange bodies.

“Oh, God! It is so big,” Clyde exclaimed as he closed his hand around Tommy Frank’s massive cock. “Never seen one so thick,” he added.

Tommy Frank played with Clyde’s strange shaped cock in silence.

“Here, let me slip a rubber on your big cock,” Clyde said as he reached under his pillow and pulled out a Sheik condom. “I would love to take it naked, but I don’t do such things anymore, it is just not safe. You just never know who is positive and who isn’t,” Clyde said as he ripped open the package and took out the condom.

Tommy Frank lay back and watched Clyde began stretching the rubber of his stiff throbbing cock.

“It’s it too small! I never saw a cock too big for a regular sized condom. I guess I’ll have to get a larger size for your monster,” Clyde said as he tried to force the condom over Tommy Frank’s huge cockhead. “Shit, it ripped.”

Tommy Frank smiled. It wasn’t the first time someone had torn a rubber trying to put it on his dick.

“Are you HIV negative?” Clyde asked as he began to apply a gob of KY to Tommy Frank’s cock.

“I never tested,” Tommy Frank answered.

“God, I never understand why people don’t get an AIDS test,” Clyde said as he applied some of the KY to his asshole.

“I only go with older men so I don’t think I run too much of a risk,” Tommy Frank explained.

“Just shut up and fuck me! I need that big cock and that was my last rubber,” Clyde almost shouted as he lay beside Tommy Frank and spread his legs as wide as possible. “Give it to me!”

Tommy Frank looked at Clyde’s big hairless ass and felt a rush of lust sweep over him. He wanted to ram his big cock into Clyde. To make him feel something and to make himself feel something. Tommy Frank needed something to fill the void he felt deep inside himself. Maybe Clyde’s moans and groans would be enough to ease the pain of the void.

“Oh, God, it is too big!” Clyde reacted loudly as Tommy Frank pushed the head of his fat cock against Clyde’s pale hairless ass. “You’re killing me! Oh, God, you’re killing me,” Clyde cried out as Tommy Frank forced the head of his cock into Clyde’s ass bud.

“Oh, God! Ooh God!” Clyde moaned as Tommy Frank relentlessly pried open his asshole.

The moans and grunts eased Tommy Frank’s inner pain so much that he let himself get lost in sensation of his cock plunging into Clyde’s hot tight asshole. “Oh, you have a hot one,” he even called out.

“Yes, take my ass pussy. Take it all. Hurt me, Baby! Oh, God, yes! Hurt me. Give me that big cock. Ooh, ooh!” Clyde moaned and called out as Tommy Frank shoved his long fat cock as deep into the older man’s asshole as it would go.

“You have got it all!” Tommy Frank hissed as he pulled his cock part way out and then began to pump it into Clyde’s pale hairless asshole. Then Tommy Frank reached down and began to squeeze Clyde’s big balls with one hand while he used the other to jack the older man’s strange shaped pointed cock just like he used to do to Walt.

Clyde moaned and chanted and squirmed his ass as Tommy Frank stroked his asshole using every inch of his long fat cock.

Tommy Frank didn’t try to keep from coming. He wanted to come. He wanted relief from desire. He wanted just a few minutes of not thinking about Walt and hoped that shooting off would give him that relief. He didn’t even give Clyde warning that he was coming. He just let out a loud sigh and felt the cum stream from his cock as he buried it as deep inside Clyde’s asshole as his thick long member would reach.

“You’re coming inside me. No, you shouldn’t do that. No!” Clyde called out as his own cock erupted. Clyde’s cum shot straight up into the air as Tommy Frank continued to hand pump his pointed cock. “Oh me, oh me, oh me,” Clyde moaned as his cum flowed less forcefully from his cock to cover Tommy Frank’s hand. “God, I haven’t had someone cum inside of me in years. God, I hope that you are safe. But it felt so good, so wonderful.” Clyde told him as he produced a towel from out of nowhere. “Let me clean us up a little and then we can cuddle up for a good night’s sleep.”

“No, I got to go,” Tommy Frank said suddenly not wanting to be with the man any longer.

“I thought that you were going to stay all night?” Clyde said and looked poutingly at Tommy Frank as he batted his long eye lashes at him. “What can a desperate girl do to convince you?”

“Nothing, I got to go to class tomorrow and have to work on a story I am writing for it,” Tommy Frank lied. “Maybe some other time.”

“I am very disappointed. I wanted it to be more than just a one night stand,” Clyde said.

“I did too, but . . .”

“I hate the word but. They should ban it from the English language. It is a word that tired old queens like me hears all too often,” Clyde said clearly disappointed.

“Sorry, Clyde, I didn’t enjoy it but my mind is on someone else and I need to be alone,” Tommy Frank said as he began to dress. “One of the men found murdered was a lover of mine. At least he was until a few days ago.” Tommy Frank confessed.

“Sorry to hear that. I presume you are talking about Walt. I knew him and Joe. Now, I understand why you came home with me. Lonely and needing some diversion. Catching someone on the down and out, that the story of my life,” Clyde said. “Well, can we be friends or am I such an ugly queen that you never want to see me again?”

“Clyde you are not ugly, in fact you are handsome. But it just didn’t click. With me it happens instantly. I either know I like someone or not in the first few minutes,” Tommy Frank explained.

“There you go using that word but again. So I gather that you knew it was only going to be a quick fuck while we were still in One Saloon,” Clyde said.

“Yes,”

“Well at least you are honest and honesty is something rare in the gay world and unknown in Key West. I am having a party next Thursday night. Everyone that is anyone on the Island straight or gay will be here. Will you come?”

“Sure,” Tommy Frank said, “What time?”

“It starts at eight and goes until everyone is gone or has passed out whichever comes first,” Clyde said.

“I’ll be there!” Tommy Frank stated as he zipped up his jeans.

“Aren’t you frightened walking the streets alone so late at night with a killer on the loose?” Clyde asked in a concerned voice.

“No, I can take care of myself. Anyway I am staying just across the street at the Rand House,” Tommy Frank answered.

“Oh, my God! You mean I am going to have to fumigate the house and shampoo with that God awful A200 to rid myself of crawly things?” Clyde exclaimed.

“So that’s why my crotch has been itching so much lately,” Tommy Frank said and then started laughing when he saw the look of horror on Clyde’s face. “I’m only joking,” he quickly added between fits of laughter.

“If I get the crabs, Tommy Frank, I’ll have you tar and feathered and run out of town on a rail, whatever that means.” Clyde cried out in mock anger.

“If anyone gets the crabs, it will be me from you as you are the one that drags hustler out of the One Saloon and not me,” Tommy Frank said and blew Clyde a kiss. “See you at the party,” he called over his shoulder.

“I am going to cry on my pillow for you all night,” Clyde called after him.