I was a
stranger in the city
Out of town were the people I knew …
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| PHOTO: eelco de wal |
The grounds in front of the nation’s oldest
hospital were covered in fog. Near the perimeter and behind some bushes, face-to-face,
Jake lowered
himself onto Steven as he unbuckled Jake’s belt and grasped his cock. This was
how it began.
A new world
for both, their relationship lasted nearly three years. In terms of gay
relationships at the time, this should be measured the way a dog’s age is
calculated in human terms: multiply by seven. Both computations are myths, however.
Later, Steven
coupled with Aaron. They bought property, furnishings, organised dinner parties and
attended many concerts and functions over the years. They are still
together at that late stage in life when couples dress, even seem to look, alike.
Jake moved
from relationship to relationship, job to job, and was in and out of rehab
several times. He is also a success—as an artist and as a scholar. He has lived
in three countries and visited many more. He can get by in French, stumbles in
Spanish and speaks Italian by quoting lyrics from operas that he knows. His
life is one of many romantic encounters.
The story of Jake, a simple country boy who went to
the big city to enrol in art studies, begins somewhat earlier, however.
In Jake’s first year at Art
College, he met Bradley. Bradley had graduated from another of the city’s art
schools that year, having just completed a year’s sojourn in Europe on a
fellowship. He was a star of the student art world and the son of the owners of
a very exclusive jewellery store. He was living at the time in a townhouse with
the owner of the city’s trendiest and most
popular gay bar. Bradley
had a studio in the bar’s atelier.
In fact, the first time Jake
ever nervously entered a gay establishment was in the daytime when the bar
was closed to help Bradley remove some paintings from his studio above the
building’s three uninterrupted étages of gaiety.
Bradley was handsome, talented, sophisticated, and
somewhat older than Jake and about to embark on a career move to a New York
City West Side loft. He listened to show music openly and without embarrassment,
which impressed Jake profoundly. Jake was not so sure of his own sexuality, but
certain that Bradley was attractive. Bradley made overtures, but Jake shyly
fended them off, nonetheless continuing to fawn over him at every chance he
got. He was dazed and confused, but certainly smitten.
Jake offered to help Bradley make the move to his
New York loft. They packed up a rental van and left for NYC and a real West
Side loft situated in an old industrial building with worn wooden floors, lots
of windows and little else. The grimness and decay of this particular West Side
neighbourhood was never reflected in West Side Story that was certain.
Bradley had crammed the van with paintings, a
chandelier, bags of clothes, a small refrigerator full of booze (from the bar it
was assumed) and some mattresses. After the unpacking, drinking and merriment, they
(Bradley, Jake, a young woman who always seemed to be hanging around him, and a male
friend of Bradley’s from New York who came by the loft to help) settled down to
sleep on mattresses on the loft floor. Bradley put himself on the mattress next
to the girl because she was feigning fright at her first night in the “big
city”. He put Jake on the mattress with the stranger. Jake knew little of the
subtleties of social manipulation back then but was learning quickly that
night.
Jake spent that long night on the floor attempting to impede this
stranger's unwanted sexual advances. He was very upset with Bradley's exploitation by using him as some sort of thank-you gift for his friend's help. Better if Bradley had chosen Jake for himself . In fact, he probably
was ready to ‘give in’ to Bradley that night, he admitted to himself in retrospect.
With little sleep and cast off in such a cavalier
way, he left New York for home on an early morning train. He never heard from Bradley
again. Returning to his girlfriend, Jake turned his back on the complexities of this
world that he simply did not understand or find very attractive. A relationship
with a woman seemed a simpler solution, except for the ever-increasing
awareness of the painful dishonesty of the situation, of which he was becoming
more and more conscious.
A few months later Jake picked up a newspaper only to see
a photo of Bradley on the front page with the description, “Bradley, an
artist whose mask was a sensation at the Truman Capote ball at the Plaza last
night”. Bradley had “arrived” in New York.
Several years later, Jake found himself easily
falling into Steven’s arms on that dark, foggy night. Much had transpired in the
time in between—a time consisting of confusion, pretense and grasping at some
sense of self in a hetero-normative world whilst coming to terms with a gay one.
What is the purpose of this story? Well, I suppose
it is to say that being gay and stories about being gay are never straight
forward (no pun intended) or simple. Our life stories are played out in an
entrenched heterosexual culture and society, which often produces not only
angst, insecurities and complexes, but also the variety and richness of
alternative lives and lifestyles as solutions for many.
Before meeting Steven, very much confused and in a
fog of his own making, Jake, his girlfriend and his mates made another trip to
New York City. This will be our
story for next time.
