Exiles in America(24)

He ran his hands over Abbas’s spine and shoulders and down into his overalls

to clutch a small, fuzzy bottom.

Abbas moaned into his mouth and Daniel moaned back.

When they released each other to catch their breaths, Abbas was smiling,

his teeth showing, his eyes shining. “This is good. Yes?” He reached down to

grip Daniel’s erection through his trousers. “For sanity of penis.”

10

The Brahms Piano Concerto no. 1 in D Minor began: loud, tragic,

glorious bombast. The entire Berlin Philharmonic poured down a

mountainside, in cataracts and torrents, sweeping everything in its path. The

pianist, Alfred Brendel, threw himself into the flood and tried to swim

against the current, frantically, heroically, as if for his life. Then he stopped

fighting and let the torrent carry him on a long, lyrical ride down through the

mountains.

Zack couldn’t play this stuff when Daniel was home. Daniel enjoyed

Brahms chamber music but not the big orchestral works. “Nerd music,” he

called it. Daniel, however, was out tonight and Zack could crank up the con-

certo. He sat in the kitchen and did his end-of-the-month paperwork, billing

patients and insurance companies, while Brahms roared on the stereo in the

dining room. Jocko snoozed on the kitchen floor, in his usual warm spot at the

base of the refrigerator. Classical music was only white noise to him.

But something outside snapped Jocko awake. He jumped to his feet and

trotted into the front hall. A moment later, he returned, herding Daniel

through the dining room, happily nudging Daniel’s crotch with his snout.

“You can turn the music down!” shouted Zack. “Or off!”

5 6

C h r i s t o p h e r B r a m

Daniel only laughed, shooed Jocko away, and paused at the stereo to lower

the volume. He continued into the kitchen. He looked quite cheerful, even

sunny.

“Hello, dear,” he said and kissed Zack on the top of his head. He smelled

like cigarette smoke, which you’d expect for a man who’d been to the bars,

but under the tobacco was a surprising whiff of pine needles.

“Sorry about the Brahms,” said Zack. “I didn’t think you’d be back until

later.”

“Oh no, your nerd music sounds good tonight. Just a little loud.” He went

to the refrigerator to get a beer—a surprising action for someone coming

home from an afternoon of bar-hopping.

And Zack began to understand. “You’re back awfully early. Norfolk didn’t

live up to its reputation?”

Daniel sat at the table, suppressing a smile. Or rather, suppressing a vari-

ety of smiles. Zack knew, after twenty-one years, that Daniel still had to decide

what attitude to take with him, what tone of voice. He could do guilty or

bored or boastful or humorous.

“We never got to Norfolk,” he finally said, humorously. “We decided to

cut out the middleman and make do with each other.”

“Ah,” said Zack. He almost said “ah” again but decided it might sound

too dramatic. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Well, I was. Some.”

“You were?”

“Oh, I knew I could be interested in him, but never thought he could be

interested in me. So I didn’t consider it. Not consciously anyway. What I

didn’t realize is how important his work is to him. A trip to Norfolk would

have taken three hours out of his life. But there I was, a bird in the hand, so to

speak. And we made do with each other.”

Zack slowly nodded. “Did you have fun?”

“Yes. It was nice.” Daniel took a swig of beer. “Friendly but impersonal.

With no embarrassment afterwards.” He laughed. “You might’ve thought

we’d just shared a game of racquetball.”

Zack raised an eyebrow—he’d heard this line before.

E x i l e s i n A m e r i c a

5 7

“I’m serious. We talked a bit, then he jumped up and went back to work

on a painting. It was the easiest, most matter-of-fact sex I’ve ever had.”

“Is that good or bad?”

Daniel laughed again, a deliberate chuckle this time. “Good, I think.

Good for us. You and me, I mean.”

Zack made a get-out-of-here face—this didn’t worry him.

“Good for everyone,” Daniel added. “No complications.”

He usually didn’t say so much about an encounter. Bad sex produced only

a bitter joke or two. Great sex confused him and he didn’t talk about it at all.

Tonight, however, he was amused and content, so the sex must’ve been good.

“Are you going to get together again?” asked Zack—the million-dollar

question.

Daniel wagged his head back and forth, took a deep breath, and sighed. “I