“No, but my tricks are only tricks, and I know better than to get too per-
sonal with them. I have more experience here than you. I know the difference
between love and dick. I don’t trust this guy.”
“What’s going on here?” said Zack. “Why should you be upset about him
when you weren’t upset about other guys I’ve seen? Like Ben Brandt, who
you found hot and sexy. Or what’s-his-name, the piano player at High School
of Performing Arts.”
“You can’t even remember their names!”
“Not all of them, no. Can you remember yours?”
“No!” cried Daniel. “Because mine aren’t as important to me as yours are
to you. But this Thomas is different. You feel sorry for him, which is like one
step from being in love with him.”
“What are you talking about? I’m in love with you and I’ve never felt sorry
for you.”
“No? Haven’t you? Not a little?”
Zack was silenced again, confused by the accusation. It was true that he
felt sorry for Daniel. But he felt sorry for almost everyone.
He slept on the sofa that night. In times of insomnia, one of them would
often move to the sofa, but they had never begun a night apart. They had
never gone to bed so angry that they couldn’t sleep together.
Zack hoped they’d find a way to address the subject over the next few
days, but Daniel refused to discuss it. Zack feared the crisis would affect his
work, preventing him from giving his patients his full attention—he had
joined a new clinic in the East Village and was often overworked. But he
found that he could actually lose himself in his patients, forgetting his trou-
bles in theirs. He remained clear about other people even when he felt con-
fused about himself.
A week passed and Daniel asked, “So when’s he coming back? You seeing
him this weekend?”
“No.” Zack hesitated, then decided to tell the truth, even though he sus-
E x i l e s i n A m e r i c a
6 5
pected he was being truthful only because he was angry. “But he’s invited me
to fly up and visit him in Boston sometime.”
“You want to spend good money to fuck an old man?”
“It’s my money. He’s not an old man. And I don’t fuck him, if you have to
know.”
“I don’t want to hear about it. It’s too gross to think about.” Daniel shook
his head. “You are such a sucker. Such a pushover. You’ll love anybody who
loves you. Anybody.”
“Would it make you feel better if I never saw him again?”
“No. Do what you want. You always do.”
“And you don’t?”
“Not always.” Daniel paused. “Maybe I should take this job at William
and Mary.”
“I told you. You can try it. But I think you’ll be miserable down there.”
“Why? Because I’m a New York Jew?”
“No. Because you’re you. And I know Virginia. It’s a nice, safe, boring
place. You’ll be bored to tears.”
“You don’t think I’m bored now? I don’t hate my life now?”
Zack reached out to hold him. “Oh, Daniel, don’t talk like—”
Daniel jerked away. “Don’t give me your fucking pity. Save it for your
fucking patients.” He stormed out of the room.
“Don’t be an ass!” Zack shouted after him. “Come back and argue with
me! Finish what you’re trying to say, dammit!”
Zack flew up to Boston that weekend. He needed to get away from Daniel,
and there was no other place to go. He spent the next forty-eight hours in Eu-
gene’s town house. Love was not just an extra room but a whole building, its
rooms and hallways lined with books. It was May, warm and sunny, and Zack
stayed naked for most of his visit, refusing to wear even a bathrobe as he
padded about, smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee, wanting to feel cheap
and slutty. Eugene got dressed and followed his nude guest, talking about the
book he was working on or books he had written or books he hoped to write
one day. He asked nothing about Zack, not a word. Zack wanted to talk about
his fight with Daniel, although complaining about his partner felt like a worse
betrayal of him than sex. But Eugene didn’t care that Zack had a partner.
6 6
C h r i s t o p h e r B r a m
What Zack had read as love was little more than a widower’s gratitude that a
younger man could share his bed. Zack could not remember his own orgasms
ever feeling so deep or leaving him so sad. He passed the weekend in an
erotic, melancholy stupor.
When he got back to New York, Daniel was overjoyed to see him again.