Page 13

12.

The Canoodlers

“The Disco Witches do not by nature disdain the overlords or their minions. We welcome the allies who give us space to dance, make love, and build our temples. But when the overlords set their weapons and laws against the holy lovers, then we fight and dance for their defeat.”

—Disco Witch Manifesto #88

With only twenty minutes left before Asylum Harbor was to open for the season, Joe was on his third run to Mulligan’s grocery to grab something the bar was missing. This time, Vince had sent him back for a quart of heavy cream in case customers started ordering brandy Alexanders or white Russians, two more drinks Joe hadn’t a clue how to make.

As he was half walking, half jogging back to the bar with the cream, a familiar face stopped him in his tracks. It was that deckhand from the ferry, the better-looking one who had laughed at Joe the day of his arrival. Only this time he didn’t have his teenage coworker with him—he was sitting with a cute blonde girl on the steps near the liquor store. The last thing Joe wanted to do was to walk by and subject himself to the deckhand’s homophobic tittering again. He suddenly felt like he was back in junior high and needed to avoid the bullies in the hallways.

For a moment Joe studied the young couple from a distance, recognizing the girl as one of the many Mulligan cousins who worked the cash registers at the grocery store. The two lovebirds were sitting close together, with their knees touching, her hand taking his hand at one point, massaging it as they talked about something that appeared serious. At one point the deckhand reached up and tenderly moved a lock of the girl’s short blonde hair behind her ear with his hand. Even from this distance Joe could tell they were damned nice-looking hands—strong and probably rough from pulling and tying up the ferry ropes all day. And then there were his forearms and those long, hairy legs …

Ugh! Joe hated when he found straight guys attractive. What a waste of time.

The deckhand and the girl looked so smitten with each other, like leads in one of those sixties beach movies, Beach Blanket Bingo or Where the Boys Are . Where better to fly their horny, heterosexual flag than in one of the only gay-friendly communities on Earth? The hell with them, Joe thought. Get a fucking room!

Joe realized Vince would be tossing a fit if he didn’t get back immediately; he didn’t have time to detour all the way around Ocean Boulevard and back just to avoid passing the deckhand and his date. So he decided to quickly pass by with his head down, hoping the deckhand didn’t notice. But just as he stepped in front of them, the deckhand coughed, causing Joe to look up and find himself staring straight into those insanely blue eyes. They are not just blue. They are the bluest blue I’ve ever seen.

Realizing he had been staring at least two seconds longer than he should, Joe abruptly looked away, acting like it hadn’t happened. The expression on his face must’ve looked ridiculous, since it caused the deckhand and his girlfriend to snort with laughter.

A wave of humiliation crash inside Joe’s stomach. He sped around the corner and up the steps to the bar. When he hit the doorway, Vince was staring switchblades at him. “Where the feck have you been?” Vince snapped. “And why’s your face all lobster red like that?”