He was still in Rafael’s arms, lying naked in the darkness atop the bed. A cool, night breeze blew in through the window, but Rafael’s body kept him warm. He had never felt such peace, such a sense of wellbeing as he did at that moment. He couldn’t be happier, more serene, more secure than lying in Rafael’s arms at that moment—but something was wrong.
He opened his eyes. The darkness of the room was slowly beginning to grow into a faint light from the window as the sky began to lighten with the impending rise of the morning sun. It would still be a while before the first true light of morning, but Jeremy was able to faintly see that he and Rafael were not alone. There was someone standing beside the bed! Two figures!
Suddenly terrified, Jeremy’s eyes snapped open and he saw them, standing before him, gazing down at him, their condemnation clear on their pain-filled faces. Tears trickled down his mother’s cheeks and he could see the disgust and sadness in his father’s eyes. Suddenly, Jeremy was a little boy again as he softly cried, “Mommy! Daddy!”
His father shook his head sadly as his mother raised a hankie to her eyes and dabbed her mascara-stained tears. They turned around as Jeremy cried out to them again, but to no avail. They were gone.
He raised his head and looked around in a panic, breathing as if he had just run a mile. Rafael stirred, but didn’t awaken. After a moment, Jeremy slipped out of the teenager’s arms and off the bed. Naked, he stood beside the bed where his parents had stood, tears flowing down his cheeks as he looked around in confusion. Where had they gone?
Still breathing hard, he bit his lower lip and walked over to the foot of the tall dresser beside the closet. He dropped to the floor and pulled his legs up, his knees under his chin as he wrapped his arms around his legs. Frozen, he stared out across the floor, unmoving as the light slowly grew in the room. The muffled roar of early morning traffic on Broadway grew louder along with the occasional honk of a horn. And, then…
“…Harry Harrison with you at six-thirty-two on Music Radio Seventy-Seven, WABC. Its sixty-six degrees on a beautiful Tuesday morning in the greatest city in the world. No major tie-ups in traffic yet, though you need to watch out for construction on the Major Deegan between…”
Rafael grumbled an irritated, “Fuck,” as he reached for the alarm clock and turned off the radio. He mumbled another “Fuck” and then raised his head, looking around in confusion until he saw a mop of red hair past the edge of the bed.
“Jeremy?” he mumbled, still not completely awake. “What are you doing on the floor?”
He struggled to sit up and looked around. When he saw Jeremy sitting in a ball, unmoving, seemingly unaware that Rafael had spoken to him, he climbed from the bed. He crawled over to the boy and softly asked, “Jeremy, sweetheart, what’s the matter? What’s wrong?”
Jeremy said nothing. His eyes remained fixed on the other side of the room and he seemed to be completely unaware of anything around him. Rafael wrapped his arms around him and held him tightly. He said nothing; he simply held the boy for a long time until Jeremy finally relaxed slightly and leaned against him. Still, he said nothing and they simply sat silently, Rafael holding him.
—o-0-o—
“I was at a dance when he caught my eye, standing alone, looking sad and shy. We began to dance, swaying to and fro, and soon I knew I would never let him go.”
Teddy Cochran danced across the kitchen, carrying a plate of English muffins and a bowl of strawberries to the table as Eydie Gormé sang on the radio. He had changed the radio away from Rafael’s Top 40 station to a more middle of the road selection. Wearing a short, silk robe and bunny slippers, he began to sing along as he turned back to the cabinet.
“Blame it on the Bossa Nova with its magic spell. Blame it on the Bossa Nova that he did so well. Oh it all began with just one little dance, but soon it ended up a big romance. Blame it on the Bossa Nova, the dance of love.”
Rafael and Jeremy stood in the doorway to the kitchen, the older boy’s face reflecting the mirth inside, the younger boy with a reserved smile. Rafael stepped forward and joined his uncle in singing and dancing as he helped carry items to the table. Jeremy smiled and watched.
“Now was it the moon? No no, the Bossa Nova. Or the stars above? No, no, the Bossa Nova. Now was it the tune, Yeah yeah, the Bossa Nova, the dance of love.”
Teddy turned the radio off and Rafael set a pitcher of orange juice on the table. He remarked to his uncle, “You seem to be in a good mood today.”
Teddy set his copy of the New York Times on the table next to a cup of coffee. “I’m delirious with sleep deprivation,” he replied.
He sat down and put a pair of reading glasses on. Looking over them at the boys as they sat down, he added, “Listening to the two of you last night screaming out in lust and love, I took up smoking again. First, Jeremy would cry, ‘Oh, Rafael! You’re so manly and strong!’ And, then, Rafael would yell, ‘Take it! Take it like a man!’ It was enough to give me the vapors!”
“I never said that!” Jeremy cried.
Rafael shook his head and said, “Either you’re delusional or you dropped a hit or three of acid into all that rot gut Scotch you were drinking last night.”
Teddy took a sip of coffee and spread the front page of the Times out before him. “I haven’t tripped since that party at Andy’s,” he replied, “when I saw the soup cans dancing down St. Mark’s Place. Then again, Rafael, you did bear a striking resemblance to Jane Russell in Gentlemen Prefer Blonds.”
“Did Jeremy look like Marilyn Monroe?” Rafael asked, buttering an English muffin.
“Sadly no,” Teddy replied. “I would have enjoyed hearing him sing, ‘Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend.’”
“Or, ‘Happy Birthday, Mr. President?’”
Teddy smiled and said, “I don’t think Mr. Kennedy liked redheads like Jeremy.”
“I think Mr. Kennedy liked anything with tits and a vagina.”
Jeremy looked back and forth between the two and finally said, “You two are crazy. I want to go home.”
“Too late,” Rafael replied. “We’re dancing today. I’ll teach you the Bossa Nova.”
“I already know how to do the Twist, the Swim, and the Mashed Potato.”
“Good. We’ll add to your repertoire.”
Teddy was perusing an article about President Nixon’s vacation at Key Biscayne. Dropping the paper so he could look over the top, he asked Rafael, “Speaking of dancing, how long will the two of you be at Ballet Academy today?”
Rafael grinned and said, “Until one of us drops dead from exhaustion—or three o’clock, whichever comes first.”
“Three o’clock’s not very long,” Jeremy complained. “I need lots of work if I’m going to impress Alistair.”
“You’ll be fine,” Rafael replied. “We don’t want to push you too far.”
“I’m okay, Rafael.”
“You went two months without dancing. You can’t just jump right back in. Your muscles need to catch up with your spirit.”
“But, I kept up with my exercises all summer,” Jeremy countered. “Besides, we’ve done practically nothing but dance since Thursday night. I know what I can do.”
Rafael smiled and nodded, replying, “I know and I know you’re in great shape, but we don’t want to push too hard. I don’t want you injuring a tendon or pulling a muscle just before you dance for Alistair or before your audition next month.”
“I’m fine!” Jeremy replied with irritation. “I need to practice!”
Rafael frowned and turned to face the younger boy, declaring, “Look, Jeremy. You’re not playing football for Bear Bryant. You’re a dancer for Alistair Mountjoy, which is harder. I know what I’m talking about. I’ve been training at one of the best ballet schools in the world. I really do know what I’m talking about.”
“And, I know what I can do!” Jeremy snapped.
Rafael was taken aback by the anger in the younger boy’s voice. He looked away and softly replied, “All right.”
Jeremy frowned and looked down at his cereal. After a moment, he muttered, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be hateful. It’s just that… I know I have to be careful, but I also know what I can do and what I can’t. I’m strong. I can dance. I’ll let you know when I’ve had enough. I need the practice, Rafael. I need it. I have to be the best.”
Rafael silently looked up from his muffin and cereal and nodded. Teddy watched over his reading glasses, his eyes moving back and forth between the two.
“You know, Rafael, if he’s doing well at three, another hour of practice might not hurt. I seem to remember a curly-haired twelve-year-old who couldn’t be dragged off the dance floor.”
Rafael sighed and nodded.
“Perhaps I’m being overprotective. I’ve just never had anyone that I cared for like this.”
Jeremy kept his eyes averted as he said softly, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Silently, the two ate as Teddy read his newspaper and sipped his coffee. Eventually, Rafael looked up and asked, “Will you remember to run by Tiffany’s today for me?”
“Of course, dear,” Teddy replied. “I’m having lunch with my editor in hopes she can assuage my fears about my new project. I’ll drop by afterward.”
“Thank you,” Rafael said.
—o-0-o—
“So, you want to talk about what happened this morning?”
Rafael examined Jeremy as they emerged from the elevator and walked across the lobby of the apartment building. He was carrying a BOAC airline bag with their dance things inside as well as the Deutsche Grammophon recording of the Berlin Philharmonic performing the music from Dmitri Koronov’s The Ice Prince. Jeremy walked beside him and looked down at the floor.
“No, not really.”
Rafael smiled at him as they came to the door. Jeremy held it open. Rafael stopped before walking through. “Jeremy, this is me. Rafael. You can tell me anything.”
Jeremy frowned and followed him out onto the sidewalk. The sky was clear after the previous evening’s rain and the temperature was surprisingly mild. Jeremy, who was accustomed to the southern Augusts in Greensburg, feeling the soft, comforting air, couldn’t help himself and performed a quick pirouette, reveling in the wonderful weather. He didn’t say anything, however, as he walked alongside Rafael toward Broadway. The teenager watched him and said, “Come on, Little Dude. I’m not going to let you off the hook that easy. Talk to me. I think I deserve to know why my boyfriend was curled up and catatonic in the corner of the bedroom this morning.”
Jeremy sighed and said, “I’ll talk about it, but can we do it later? I mean, we’re on our way to Ballet Academy and I’m going to dance there for the first time in my life. I want this to be a wonderful day and if I talk about that, it won’t be. Do you understand?”
Rafael nodded and replied, “I understand. I just want you to know that whatever’s bothering you, you don’t have to go through it alone. I’m here, Jeremy, whenever you need me.”
“I know,” the younger boy replied as he looked around at the sights along Eighty-Sixth Street, “and I appreciate it. We can talk about it tonight. I just want to have fun and be happy today.”
Rafael smiled and nodded as they approached the corner at Broadway.
“Will there be anyone there today?” Jeremy asked.
“Probably a few,” Rafael replied waiting with a half-dozen other people for the light to change. “The company’s in hiatus and the Summer Session is over now, so there won’t be many. But, there are people who are still in town and need someplace to practice and most of them, like us, don’t have any room at their homes to do any serious dancing. The company and the school share a lot of the same facilities, so you might see a few of the professionals.”
“Really?” Jeremy asked excitedly. “Anyone famous, like Mario de Stefano or Jacob Linley? Marta Van Amstel? Maybe Alexei Vishnevsky?”
“Maybe, though you don’t want to meet Vishnevsky. He’s an asshole.”
“What? He’s the greatest dancer in the world!”
The light changed and they started across the street.
“Not anymore,” Rafael explained. “Vishnevsky’s really a has-been. None of the really good companies want him anymore. The only reason Alistair signed him is because the board made him. They think it’ll help the box office, but Alistair says brilliant dancing will help the box office. He didn’t even use him in the main productions last year. He went on tour and performed some individual dances, but he doesn’t dance in anything important.”
They reached the other side of Broadway and then crossed to the south side of Eighty-Sixth. “That’s too bad,” Jeremy replied. “It’s got to be hard to give up dancing when it’s time.”
“Yeah, it probably is,” Rafael replied as they stepped back up on the curb and turned. Looking north on Broadway for the bus, he added, “Alistair says it was the hardest thing he ever did, giving up dancing after his father died and the board asked him to take over the company and school. He had just passed his prime as a dancer and he wasn’t ready to quit. He could have danced another five or ten years, if he wanted—he was that good.”
Jeremy nodded and said, “It’s too bad that we spend ten or twelve years training and then we only get to dance for fifteen or maybe twenty.”
“Yeah,” Rafael replied. “Ballet is hard on your body. People don’t realize what we go through. That’s why I want to get as much under my belt as I can before it’s too late. I want to do everything!”
“I know,” Jeremy replied. “I want to be a principal before I turn twenty-five!”
Rafael smiled as he saw the bus a few blocks away and said, “It’s unusual to do it before then, but it’s possible if you’re really outstanding.”
“I will be,” Jeremy declared. “I will be the best they’ve ever seen. I have to be.”
Rafael smiled down at him, but it was a smile tempered with concern. “You’ll be famous, Jeremy. Don’t worry about that. Someday, fifty years from now, if they still have buses in the twenty-first century some kid’s going to get on the M-107 or whatever they call it then and think, ‘This is the bus Jeremy Fenwick rode to Ballet Academy.”
Jeremy shook his head and said, “No, he’ll say this is the bus Rafael Colón rode to Ballet Academy.”
Rafael nodded and said, “Yeah, you’re probably right, but he might think about you, too.”
Jeremy grinned and pretended to sock Rafael in the shoulder.
The bus rumbled up to them and pulled to a stop in a cloud of choking diesel fumes. Rafael led him onto the bus, paid their fares and proceeded on down the aisle. There were no seats available and they were forced to stand and hold onto the railing above their heads. Jeremy felt a rush of excitement as the bus started on down Broadway. He was on a bus with New Yorkers! And he was going to Ballet Academy! His dream was coming true!
Rafael grinned as he saw the joy on Jeremy’s face and said, “It’s beautiful to see you so happy.”
Jeremy smiled up at him and said, “I feel like I’m asleep and I’m afraid I’m going to wake up and find myself back in Greensburg and living with Uncle Jimmy Dale.”
“Well, I don’t think you have to worry too much about that loser anymore,” Rafael replied. “You’re in New York now, Jeremy. It’s not a dream. You’re one of us, now.”
Jeremy took a deep breath and smiled as he gazed out the window over the heads of the people seated beside him. He gazed at the apartment and office buildings, the stores and restaurants along the wide street and felt an overwhelming amazement that he was actually riding a bus in New York and going to ballet school. He wondered how many thousands of other kids had experienced that same emotion, leaving their boring lives behind to escape to the freedom and opportunity of New York? How many had fulfilled their dreams? How many had failed. He would not be one of the latter. He would not fail. He would succeed. He would be a star! He would be the greatest dancer in the world. He would.
Thinking about that, Rafael nudged his shoulder and nodded his head toward the window. Jeremy saw a building of concrete and steel with sharp corners and odd angles where Broadway curved to the east and crossed both Columbus Avenue and Sixty-Fifth Street.
“That’s Julliard,” he said to the younger boy. “On the other side is Balanchine’s School of American Ballet.”
Jeremy’s eyes grew wide as he gazed in awe at the spectacular building. Rafael pointed across Sixty-Fifth and added, “There’s Lincoln Center. That’s Philharmonic Hall.”
As the bus crossed Columbus, more of the center came into view and Rafael said, “You can’t see it from here, but on the right of that big plaza is the Metropolitan Opera where American Ballet Theater performs and over there is the New York State Theater, where the New York City Ballet performs.”
Jeremy couldn’t speak as he gazed out the window at the magnificent buildings. He bit his lip and as the bus moved on, he took a deep breath and sighed, turning back to Rafael and saying, “This is all so wonderful, so fantastic. Everywhere I look I see something incredible. It’s almost too much.”
Rafael nodded and said, “Every once in a while, I realize where I am and I think, ‘Shit! I’m here! I’m really here!’ I know what you mean.”
“I could never get bored being in New York,” Jeremy said. “This could never be normal for me.”
Rafael smiled and nodded. “After a while, you get a little jaded, but then something happens that reminds you where you are and you remember being in Greensburg and you just feel such relief that you’re here and not there.”
“Yeah,” Jeremy breathed. The bus wound its way around Columbus Circle and to the south side of Central Park and then, amidst tall buildings, grand hotels, and exclusive apartments, they turned right at Seventh Avenue and headed south.
“Over there is Carnegie Hall,” Rafael said as he pointed to a large, old auditorium. Jeremy looked around with excitement and didn’t notice, after a moment, that Rafael had pulled the cord. The bus stopped and Rafael led Jeremy off the bus and onto the sidewalk. The bus rumbled on, leaving another cloud of diesel fumes in its wake. When it cleared, Jeremy gazed across Seventh and saw…
“Ballet Centre!”
Rafael grinned at Jeremy’s excitement and had to grab his shoulder to keep the boy from running across the street into traffic. When the light changed, they crossed the street and then Jeremy ran on up the sidewalk, past the Dancers’ Deli and past the front of the Schuyler Theater to Ballet Academy of America, where he suddenly performed two magnificent Grand Jeté en tournant, spinning leaps, followed by a pirouette à la seconde. He finished with his feet turned out, one before the other, with one arm curved down to his hip and the other raised ecstatically above his joy-filled face.
Rafael laughed and applauded, as did several passers-by, as Jeremy grinned happily.
“I’m here!” he cried as Rafael approached.
“That was beautiful, Jeremy,” Rafael declared, “even in sneakers and on concrete, but if I ever see you do something like that again on concrete and without a proper warm up, I’m going to kick your cute butt all the way back to Greensburg!”
Jeremy grinned and stuck his tongue out before he cried, “I’ve danced at Ballet Centre!”
Rafael laughed as he walked up to him and said, “Far out! Okay, let’s go home now.”
“No way!” Jeremy laughed as he grabbed Rafael’s hand and pulled him toward the entrance to the school.
At that moment, a cab pulled up to the curb and a red-haired teenager yelled out the open window, “Rafi! Rafi! You’re back!”
Jeremy and Rafael turned and watched as the teenager paid the cab driver and then jumped out of the car, slamming the door behind him and rushing forward, his arms outstretched, one hand holding a gym bag similar to Rafael’s.
“Dylan!” Rafael cried, and the two hugged happily.
“When did you get back?” the teen demanded as he happily grasped Rafael’s shoulders and gazed into his face.
“Last night,” Rafael replied. “Well, actually, weekend before last. I spent the night here and then flew down to Greensburg to see Mom. We got back from there last night.”
“How was London?” Dylan asked eagerly.
“Oh, man, it was fantastic,” Rafael replied. “I love the RBS. If it wasn’t for Alistair, I’d transfer there in a heartbeat. I love London and I love the Royal Ballet. I’ve never trained so hard in my life. I was exhausted every night and I loved every minute of it.”
Dylan grinned and said, “I’m so jealous I had to stay here. SAB was fantastic, but I wish I could have gone with you to London.”
Rafael nodded and said, “Alistair says I’m doing Paris next year.”
“Oh, I’m so jealous,” Dylan replied. “I wish I was as good as you.”
“You are,” Rafael replied. “You just don’t give yourself enough credit.”
Dylan shrugged and turned to the smiling redhead beside them. He extended his hand, backside up as if it were to be kissed and said, “Hi! I’m Dylan Thackeray. I’m Rafael’s girlfriend!”
Jeremy raised an eyebrow and grasped his fingers, replying, “Jeremy Fenwick. I’m Rafael’s boyfriend.”
Dylan smiled for a moment and then glanced back at Rafael, where he saw only a nervous smile.
“Isn’t that precious,” Dylan said in a happy voice. “He thinks he’s your boyfriend.”
“He is,” Rafael replied carefully.
Dylan’s smile slowly dissolved before he said flatly, “He’s your boyfriend.”
Rafael nodded.
“Your boyfriend.”
“Yes.”
“What the hell, Rafael!”
Dylan glared at the older boy, his eyes bulging with outrage. “I thought we were going together! Rafael, we agreed before you left! We agreed that if we didn’t find anyone over the summer, then we’d go with each other when we got back!”
“Well, I found someone,” Rafael replied softly.
“That’s not how it works!” Dylan cried. “You weren’t supposed to actually find someone!”
“Well, I did,” Rafael replied. “Besides, I never said we’d go steady. I just said that we could hang together.”
“Rafi! You cad!”
“Oh, come on, Dylan. It’s not the end of the world.”
“Yes, it is! You’re my boyfriend! Besides, look at him! Did you turn into a chicken hawk over the summer? What is he? Ten?”
“Hey! I’m almost thirteen!” Jeremy cried.
“Oh, shut up, Gomer!” Dylan snapped. “I’ll deal with you later! You’re not getting my boyfriend!”
Jeremy’s eyes bulged with fury and Rafael had to restrain him from attacking the fourteen-year-old as the younger boy cried, “Why, you damned sissy! I’ll kick the snot out of you!”
Dylan shrieked and cried, “Oh, my God, Rafi! Where did you find this lout? In some back alley in the Bowery?”
“Will you shut up?” Rafael demanded over his shoulder as he continued to restrain Jeremy. “He really can kick the snot out of you!”
A number of passers-by had stopped to watch the spectacle and were grinning and chuckling. Rafael noticed and quietly said to the younger boy, “It’s okay, Jeremy. Please let me handle this.”
“He can’t talk to you like that!” Jeremy replied angrily, adding loudly, “Rafael’s the best guy in the world! I won’t let anybody talk to Rafael like that!”
Dylan simply backed off and whimpered. Rafael looked at Jeremy and ordered, “Let me handle this.”
Jeremy was still breathing heavily and nodded. However, he added, “But if he insults you or calls me ‘Gomer’ again, I’ll knock his pansy head off!”
Rafael sighed with frustration, but released Jeremy, who made as if he were going to jump on Dylan and then stopped. Dylan shrieked and jumped backward as the spectators laughed. Rafael gave them an angry look and yelled, “Go fuck yourselves! Show’s over!”
The spectators grumbled and moved on. Rafael sighed again and faced Dylan.
“Now, listen. The agreement was that if neither of us found someone. Well, Dylan, I found the sweetest and most wonderful guy in the world and I love him.”
“He’s a beast!”
“You don’t know him. He’s really sweet. He’s the best twelve-year-old dancer in America. Madame Pulchova says he’s better than I was at that age. And, at twelve, he’s a better dancer than you are at fourteen.”
Dylan cried out with shock.
“Now, listen, Dylan. You the closest thing to a friend I have at Ballet Academy. When you get to know Jeremy, you’ll see how special he is.”
Dylan glared at him and turned his back on the two. Rafael took a deep breath and said, “Dylan, it was a really difficult week. Jeremy was accepted to the Summer Intensive, but his parents died a month before it started and he had to go live with a fucking insane uncle who thinks dancing is sinful and he had to give up the one thing that makes living worthwhile for him. He was on the verge of suicide, man. You know how important ballet is to you. Well, Jeremy is good. He’s damn good and when I found out what had happened, I did everything I could to get him here. It was difficult. It was scary, but we got him here and we fell in love and that’s just the way it is. I love him and he loves me.”
Dylan lowered his head, but remained silent and kept his back to them. Rafael walked over to him and put his hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“Look, I know you’re hurt. I know it and I’m sorry. We’re still friends. We’ll still go down to the Village on Saturday nights and get thrown out of the Vanguard. But, I’m in love with Jeremy and nothing’s going to change that. When you get to know him, you’ll understand. If you really care for me, you’ll give him a chance. Please. Get to know him. He really is sweet.”
Dylan audibly sighed and slowly turned around. He glared at Rafael and then studied Jeremy with narrow eyes. Jeremy crossed his arms and stared back at him. Dylan slowly walked forward and said, “Well, if Rafael loves you, you can’t be completely worthless. There has to be something there.”
Jeremy shrugged and said, “So, if Rafael’s your friend, I guess you’re not a complete loser.”
Dylan nodded, though his face was still clouded with contempt. “So, you have a big dick?”
“Yeah,” Jeremy snarled. “You?”
“Yeah,” Dylan snarled back.
They glared at each other for a moment and then both broke into smiles. Dylan put his arm around Jeremy’s shoulder and led him toward the door as he vamped, “Girlfriend, don’t you love the way Rafael does that little whiny thing just before he cums?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s so cute!” Jeremy replied enthusiastically. “And, isn’t his foreskin just the sexiest thing on earth?”
“Oh, my God! You like it, too?”
Rafael stood in confusion as the two walked to the entrance. Dylan opened the door and Jeremy turned around grinning and said, “Rafael, I’m about to walk into Ballet Academy of America for the first time. Don’t you want to come?”
Rafael sighed and muttered, “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, after all.”