Why Did He Die?

Chapter 12

I hung up with Lee and pulled the messy bed covers over my weary body. I cradled my hands behind my head and stared at the blue-gray shadows on the ceiling. My eyelids drooped until the doorbell chime startled me. I sprang from bed, sprinted to the door thinking Michael or Rob had forgotten something. When I opened the door standing before me was a smiling, crew cut blond wearing a brown uniform. “I have a UPS package for you if you are Mr. Haffner?”

“I am, sorry. Yes, I am John Haffner” I responded with no way to hide myself.

“Could you sign on the electronic pad?”

“Please step inside; I don’t need to expose myself to the rest of the building.” He laughed. Moments later he was gone and I was left holding a rectangular box covered with labels and magic marker words. When Ms. Tornelli called about the$200,000 bequest she asked for my San Francisco address. She told me a package had arrived for Andrew from England. I laid the box on the bedside table and slipped back under the covers. Moments later it was morning.

A priority before driving to the camp was closing another chapter of Andrew’s life which I stored away two years ago. Before Christmas I called the storage company where I had shipped Andrews’s possessions. As I pulled the card from my wallet to call I wondered if we would find the negatives. The cartons were to be delivered on January 3 before noon if I didn’t want to come get them. The person I spoke to asked, “Sir, where would like us to deliver the cartons?” There will be a $40 charge for delivery.” I didn’t answer so he asked me the same question again: “Where should we deliver?” I am sure he thought that I was retarded but after a long pause I gave him Jim’s address.

I went out to buy coffee, donuts and orange juice at Dunkin Donuts. As I munched on a chocolate Bismarck the doorbell chime rang. Jeremy got up to let Michael and Rob in. Before they got settled the door chime rang again. Four cardboard cartons were wheeled in. We each choose a carton. I had quickly I packed them two years ago in his suite at the Regent Hotel. I don’t remember why I decided to send them to San Francisco for safe keeping. Rob, Michael, Jeremy and I stood above our assigned box and sequentially opened each one. Watching Michael’s face told me he was anticipating Andrew jumping out. “This makes me feel sick. Why are we doing this?”

As I stared into my box I heard, “Earth to John, Earth to John.”

Saying without looking up, “I am remembering when I packed this stuff two years ago. I’m almost sick.”

“Anything you want to tell us,” Rob continued.

“There’s not much to tell. Opening this box seems so much more personal than opening his safety deposit box. I know I didn’t feel this way two years ago.” I took a drink of coffee. “When I returned to Hong Kong in early July, 2001 I called the Regent’s executive director to tell him about Andrew’s death. According to their records he was up-to-date with his $35,000 HK monthly rent. They said the $5000 USD payments were transferred automatically from a bank in California. I closed the bank accounts known to me so there must be more. I was so busy with work that I didn’t deal with Andrew’s possessions immediately. I went to the Regent a couple of times looking for check books with account numbers and picked up the mail. I paid a few bills and the rest of the mail I tossed into one of these boxes.

“One time I brought an art dealer over to look at Andrew’s paintings and prints. The hotel director told me that Andrew had hung his own art except for one piece in the front bathroom and one in his bedroom. The dealer took the details of each item and promised me a detailed quote in a few days but offered me $350,000HK before he left.”

I said, “No, because I wanted to get another quote.” He raised his bid to $380,000HK. I figured that was pretty close to the right number. I said “Yes, if I can get a certified bank check and have the art removed before the following Tuesday.” He was back on Sunday afternoon. I was packing these boxes when he arrived. I bundled up most of Andrew’s clothes to donate to the orphanage thrift store. I did keep two tuxedos and two silk suits that I had tailored to fit me. I also kept a long brown leather overcoat I never saw him wear because Hong Kong is too hot.

Rob says, “What happened to that money?”

“I, finally after much difficulty, I became a co-signor on Andrew’s Hong Kong bank account. I wanted the orphanage to be paid in Hong Kong dollars to avoid the fees for currency exchange. I deposited the dealer’s $380,000HK check into Andrew’s account and immediately drew a check for $350,000HK. I delivered the check to the orphanage director who bowed repeatedly thanking me. She told me Andrew regularly came to play with the children and he taught the older boys to play baseball.

“The hotel manager offered to trade me Andrew’s surround sound stereo and flat screen television for one month’s rent. I agreed. The system was probably worth more but I didn’t want to mess with it. The rent was paid up.”

“Can you tell us about the party?” Michael asked.

Getting no resistance I started, “Every time I walked into the suite I remembered something different about Andrew. I missed his softness and his calming way. Some days I couldn’t stay because his presence was too prevalent. On other days I couldn’t believe the luxury I was enjoying at Andrew’s expense. I decided to have a dinner party to celebrate Andrew’s short life before the art was taken off the walls. I knew a few of Andrew’s friends from the health club and the bank. When I began to inquire I found more than enough friends and acquaintances for a party. The summer evening was clear and cool by Hong Kong standards with lower than normal humidity. I opened the big balcony doors. There were ten of us — seven guys and three girls, all but two were Asian. We had a short cocktail time with champagne and martinis on the balcony overlooking the bustling Hong Kong harbor. The parade of junks, tenders, ferry boats and freighters provided the visual entertainment as the sun set over the churning stretch of water separating Hong Kong Island from Kowloon. A cool evening breeze blew as the moonless night turned velvet black studded with diamonds.

“I really didn’t know if these people cared about Andrew when I invited them. The girls worked him at the bank. Andrew’s assistant, Yi Lee, was a strikingly beautiful Mandarin girl with flowing black hair that brushed softly across the collar of her white silk brocade dress hardly revealing her tiny breasts. The other two women were equally attractive but taller. Andrew knew them from the sports club. Three guys, two Chinese and one Korean, were his squash partners. Each was fit and dressed like models ready for a photo shoot. The other two fellows, both English, had called me and asked to attend. I did not know their connection to Andrew.

“The black glass dining table with eight simple high backed side chairs and two end chairs was centered on a rich Tabriz carpet. A chrome fixture held five clear globes with dimmed lights creating a welcoming, secure place. The caterer arranged orchids and votives floating in a long glass tray of water. After we were seated I raised my half-filled champagne glass and I said, ‘Andrew may he rest in peace. I wish I had gotten to know you better. Today we celebrate you.’ There were audible, genuine ‘Here, here’s’”

“I asked, ‘Would everyone share a story about Andrew?’ I remember muffled laugher came from the two English fellows. I went on, ‘I know there were many sides of Andrew but I will start with what I know. I met Andrew here in Hong Kong.’ I mentioned that Andrew was in a different business in the US before coming to Hong Kong. That seemed to relieve the two guys who were probably in the same business. They were muscular and expensively dressed in silk shirts with skinny black neckties and, skin tight mauve trousers.

“One of English guys said, ‘Like Andrew, I do business at night. Andrew was one person whose beeper number I memorized because he saved my ass a couple of times when I got myself into something I couldn’t handle. I know it probably isn’t polite dinner conversation but he came and pulled me away from a john who was beating me up because…well, because I wouldn’t do what he wanted me to do. Andrew literally knocked on the guy’s door; pushed the guy aside and I was able to escape with not one stitch of clothes on.’ Everyone laughed. That was the opener that allowed the others to tell their Andrew stories. The caterer invisibly served us scrimp-filled spring rolls with a peanut dipping sauce and a spicy Thai papaya salad. The main course was Peking duck prepared crispy with traditional plum sauce and rice pancakes. The champagne and wine continued to flow. The Chinese drank very little but the rest of us made up for them.

“It was midnight before the candles were extinguished and the silver and crystal was washed and put away. The two English guys had been drinking too many after-dinner martinis and were in no shape to leave. I invited them to stay overnight. They accepted and immediately proceeded to strip to their designer boxers. One guy, Ken, immediately crashed on the couch, but Harlan and I sipped on one final glass of champagne. He propped his right foot up on the sofa revealing what was under his silk boxers. He was suddenly remarkably sober. He said, ‘I know the asshole you work for. How can you work for that scum? You seem like such a nice guy.’”

“I said that Andrew told me about Lee, but I haven’t seen that side of him.”

“‘Well, he is a royal asshole. He hurts people and he hurt me badly.’ The guy started to cry as he turned to his right revealing a nasty scar that ran from under his arm pit down to his thigh. With his finger he traced the entire length. ‘That ruined my modeling career just because I wouldn’t let him use me in one of his blackmail schemes.’ I put my arm around the guy to comfort him. He laid his head on my shoulder still crying. Needless to say it didn’t end there because the next morning he and I were in Andrew’s bed. Sometime in the night his buddy had joined us.”

Smiling at the group I said, “But that is a story for another time.”

“Just when it was starting to get interesting,” Rob offered.

“Let’s just say the night ended lovingly. The hotel was anxious to get the suite back into inventory. Later that Sunday an assistant manager joined me pointing out what belonged to the hotel and what was Andrew’s. In the process I sold several ornamental glass pieces and Andrew’s Waterford crystal barware. I ended up with another $7000HK.” I got up to refill my coffee cup and said, “What is in these boxes is all that left of the worldly possessions of Andrew Henley, III.”

“Why did you get these out now?” Michael said.

“I’m looking for photographs—more correctly, I’m looking for negatives.”

“You mean the kind you had when I met you.”

I felt my face blush. Jeremy said, “John, those must have been some pictures the way you are blushing.”

“No, Jeremy,” Michael said innocently, “They were pictures of people screwing Andrew.” Jeremy’s expression suggested that Jim hadn’t discussed Andrew with him.

In order each of us looked in our carton. I said, “My intention is to toss whatever one of us doesn’t want. Jeremy is Jim’s surrogate.” Michael opened his box like it was Christmas present. He lifted out a desk toy. The toy had five steel balls suspended on strings. When one ball is pulled back and released it hits the adjoining ball causing the one on the other end to fly out. Michael experimented and decided he wanted to take it. The remaining contents were to be thrown away.

The box I had was the repository for the mail. For me opening my carton felt like I was spying on Andrew’s private space. Most of the mail was unopened. Sorting through I found a letter from the Internal Revenue Service which I opened to find a refund check for $2569 for 1999 US income taxes. I shook my head and said, “More money to deal with!”

Jeremy quipped, “Such a problem I never have.” Jeremy emptied his box quickly. It contained old year books and picture albums. He tossed the yearbooks to the side after checking them carefully for envelopes. In the albums the pictures were stuck to adhesive paper with four pictures on each page. He pulled a couple of pictures off and looked at the back. On one was written “Me, Mary, Marty — Bali 1998. The picture was taken about the same time as the one Andrew had in his billfold. I told Jeremy I wanted to keep the albums.

Without waiting Rob was stirring in his box. He had the contents of Andrew’s desk drawers. He threw away ticket stubs and old Billboard theater programs. There were receipts Andrew was keeping for tax purposes. As he flipped one envelope toward the trash box a key dropped onto the coffee table with a loud clink. I reached for the envelope as Jeremy caught the key on the second bounce.

“Where did this come from?” Jeremy quizzed Rob.

“The tan envelope, I think,” Rob said.

“Let me see the key,” Jeremy put it in my hand. “Looks like a locker key. What is written on the envelope?”

“#H47 is written on a San Francisco Athletic Club envelope. Hang onto it?” Rob paused, “I can’t wait to see his five year old jock strap.”

Searching through my box I found letters and cards some more than ten years old. My eyes filled with tears as I thought about how little is left of the life of my friend. At the bottom of my box an item caught my attention. It was another athletic club key on a wrist cord marked BC#17. I wondered if BC was Bohemia Club.

With the four boxes searched we set them outside in the hall. With the joking reference to the jock strap in our minds Michael and Rob got ready to leave for the San Francisco Athletic Club. I remember the box sent from Henley’s office. I said, “Wait a minute there is something else to open that arrived last night.” I went into the bed room to get the box from the bedside table.

“What’s that?” Rob asked.

“It arrived last night from Andrew’s attorney’s office. I haven’t opened it but I know it’s from England.”

I explained that Andrew lived in England when he was younger. I slowly pulled a fat manila envelope from the DHL box. On the front was scrawled, ‘To Andrew from Grandma Lila.” I opened it and five envelopes of different sizes and colors fell onto the coffee table plus a folded piece of paper. I reached for the sheet which read: “Dear Andrew, I hope all is well with you. It has been so long since I saw you. When you read this know that I have gone to a better place. I know the trauma you suffered at your mother’s hand. She was a sick soul. Please try to forgive her. Know that I love you dearly. I remember your young hands gently tending the plants in my garden. I hope life has treated you well. May God Bless You, Lila” and added in pen at the bottom of the letter was Lila James McGowan died sleeping April 23, 2001.

I looked at the five envelopes and wondered if it was better if they were destroyed. Michael picked one up and slit open the top. He pulled out family pictures taken when Andrew was young. He was handsome and so happy. Each of us proceeded to open an envelope and other pictures are discovered. The final envelope was overstuffed and I was cautious. It was bulging full of negatives. I held one strip up to the light. “Well, we have found the negatives.”

“Who wants them?” Michael offered.

“Many men would pay dearly to know that these were destroyed. I don’t really care.”

“What are you going to do with them?”

“Keep them for insurance, I guess.”

I put the negatives inside one of the picture albums. “Let’s go to the San Francisco Athletic club.” After a discussion with an assistant manager we found out that the locker that matched the key was removed several years earlier during a renovation. If there were pictures in the locker they are forever buried in some construction dump.

Michael and Rob left from the club to sent Marci and Nathan to the airport. Michael said, “When they were leaving, Marci invited us to Captiva if we got bored in San Francisco. Rob told her we would be there next Saturday.”

Smiling I said to Rob, “You’ll do anything to get swim with the dolphins again.”

“That is not it. Michael wants to swim with the dolphins,” Rob says defensively.

We stopped at an Eddie Bauer store near the boy’s hotel to get blue jeans and warm clothing for the trip to the Bohemia Club. Michael and Rob changed into their new clothes and put underwear and toiletries in Rob’s Penn athletic bag. Since Rob and Michael were close to the same size they decided they could trade off and have enough clothes for four days.

I drove Jim’s Saab convertible across the Golden Gate Bridge on Interstate 10. It was night when we eased through the great boulder gateway that Lee had described. Feathery snow sparkled in the beam of the headlights. Powdery snowflakes attached themselves to the outstretched branches of the pine trees that lined the barely delineated driveway. We passed a brown security shack but no one was inside. We came upon the flashing lights of a police car and an ambulance in front of a massive stone lodge with rough hewn logs supporting the entry way.

“Think some old guy had too much fun?” Rob said. The snow was falling heavily as we stopped near the ambulance. Looking inside the lighted emergency vehicle I could see the paramedics working on someone as the three of us walked toward the reception building. Inside there was rustic furniture covered with pillows each with its own unique animal face stitched into the fabric. Lee stood near the reception desk. I knew instinctively Jim was in the ambulance. Michael approached Lee, “What happened?”

Lee’s surprised response suggested he wasn’t expecting us. “Michael!” His eyes turned to Rob and me. “I think someone tried to kill or really scare Jim.” Lee looked squarely at me, “John, I know what you’re thinking. It wasn’t me. I swear it wasn’t me.” He was obviously frightened and fell back onto one of the couches.

I turned and headed toward the ambulance. Inside the two men were working on Jim. The police cruiser pulled away. As I stood watching the backdoor opened and one of the attendants stepped down and moved toward the driver’s door. “Where are you taking him?”

“Community Hospital in Calistoga.” He slammed the door and started the vehicle backing over the crunchy snow probably a foot deep.

“Will he make it?” I yelled. There was no response as the heavy vehicle compressed the powdery surface. I started toward the car and thought, “No, if I’m going to sit up on a vigil Lee is going to keep me company.” I found Lee, Michael and Rob sitting by a roaring fire in the massive stone fireplace. The giant smooth boulders reached upward two stories through the slanted rafters.

“We’re going to the hospital. He’s alive.”

“Who’s going?” Rob said.

“Well, I am going and so is Lee,” I spoke firmly. “If you boys want to sleep you can use Lee’s room while we’re gone.”

Lee snapped, “Wait a minute. I’ll do the inviting.” Lee glared at me. I angrily stared back at him. I was ready to punch him for not protecting Jim.

“Get your coat, sir. We’re leaving.” I whispered bearing my teeth, “Where do the boys go?”

“Let’s drive around. It’s about a quarter of a mile,” Lee spoke softly. We slowly made our way through what was six inches of snow. “What the fuck happened? Who found Jim? Where was he?” I quizzed Lee.

“I got a call from one of the club employees telling me they found Jim dead. They found him in the road.”

I exploded, “I don’t believe you. Jim came up here with you. And you let this happen to him. Is the Club covering up what happened? What kind of place is this?”

Lee looked shocked. “Shit, Lee, the boys are aware of your avocation as a pimp. But a pimp protects his boys.” Uncomfortable silence filled the car cavity. Lee remained silent until we were inside the cabin’s living room.

Cabin at the Bohemia Club

Cabin at the Bohemia Club

The walls were draped with antlers. Pictures of nature hung on the unpainted log walls. A small elk head was mounted on one wall.

Lee exploded, “Listen, you opinionated asshole. You don’t know anything. First of all you’re fired.”

“Good, now I can tell you how I feel.” The boys chose to stand out of the direct line of the conversation but they didn’t leave.

“I told you, you arrogant asshole. I didn’t kill Jim and for your self-righteous information I didn’t kill or have killed Andrew Henley. Yes, he did work for me… with me. But I loved him more than anyone on this earth.”

“Then who killed him?”

“I don’t know but it wasn’t me. I have my suspicions but I’ve got to have that list that you have to know for sure.”

“What list?”

“John, give me a break. You’ve got a list of Andrew’s clients. The killer is on that list.”

“If you knew why didn’t you ask me sooner?”

“Because I was too busy and, honestly, I thought the killing was confined to Andrew. I was obviously wrong.”

I am totally confused and shot back, “Why should I believe you?”

“Because you have worked for me for three years. You know I’m honest in business. I haven’t screwed you. I thought we were…friends.”

I paused having calmed down slightly, “Let’s go to the hospital.”

Lee didn’t move. “I have a favor to ask. Don’t make me go. Whoever hurt Jim will have the hospital watched to see who comes to check on him. They are trying to connect Jim to someone else for something that I haven’t figured out. That is part of the reason I came up here. This certainly is not the best time of year!”

“But Jim came up here with you.”

“Yes, I encouraged him to come with me.”

“Excuse me, you ordered him to come as I remember.”

“OK, but he was not staying with me. When we arrived yesterday he walked straight to the house phone and called someone. Within a few minutes he said ‘Goodbye’ and drove off in the camp truck with one of the attendants. I hadn’t seen him until a few minutes ago.”

I hesitated, “So you want me to go to the hospital be the target? If I go as your shill I want my job back with a no-cut contract for a minimum of five years.”

“If you want the fucking job back you can have it. But if you voluntarily leave I don’t have to pay the balance of the contract.”

“I can’t believe what I am hearing. No negotiating — take it or leave it. Five year no-cut with automatic 10% salary increased and 100% bonus potential.”

“OK, OK,” Lee smiled with a sinister smirk.

“By the way, Asian asshole, how’d you ever get into a WASP club like the Bohemia?” I asked as I buttoned up my parka.

“That is a story that will take a while. Are you going to call Jeremy?”

”I will after I find out Jim’s condition.” I left the cabin, slowly maneuvered through the snow and stopped at reception to get directions to the hospital. The fellow at reception desk and a security guard insisted that I take blankets and a thermos of coffee because the snow was piling up. Another man came out of a small dimly lighted office and quietly said, “Why don’t you take the four-wheel Jeep? We won’t need it until morning.” He continued just as quietly, “You know if anyone asks where Mr. Park had his accident tell them somewhere other than Bohemia. The police have the details but the rest of the world doesn’t need to know.”

I thought, “You arrogant bastard…you care more about this club’s reputation than a human being.” I plucked the keys out of his hand, got into the vehicle, and slowly drove the twenty-seven miles into Calistoga. I arrived at the hospital shortly after midnight. The illuminated “Emergency Room” sign was the only sign of life I could detect as I drove into the empty parking lot. I parked close to the door.

The reception was well lit but no one was visible. I called out “Hello, anybody here?” and got no response. I pushed open the doors marked ‘No Admittance — Staff Only’ and walked cautiously through. I found no one and retraced my steps into a corridor and then into a lighted hall. The hall became a brightly lighted tunnel with framed circus posters like those pasted on barns covering the walls — Circus Tomorrow, Binghamton May 29; Ringling Bros. Barnum & Bailey — Lewiston, ME August 17 I looked at the grotesque faces of clowns and freaks as I slowly walked. I hallucinated that I could hear a calliope playing. I felt like I had concrete shoes on my feet. I could see someone coming but I couldn’t speak. A large woman in a white pants and multi-colored jacket said, “Are you ill? Do you need help?”

With great effort I made my mouth move. “How’s Jim Park?”

“Who?” the woman scowled.

“The guy the ambulance brought in about an hour ago,” I managed to whisper. She sympathetically said, “Young man, why don’t you sit over here on the couch and catch your breath. I don’t have an answer for you but perhaps he is in surgery. I will find out. The doctor may want to know that someone is here who knows Mr. Park.”

She stepped away as I sunk down into the couch. I put my head against the wall. I was able to shake off my fatigue when another fatter woman approached me. She addressed me, “Sir, Mr. Park is hanging on. Are you a relative?”

I was alert enough to lie, “I’m as close a relative as he has. Can I see him?”

As I stood she grabbed my elbow to steady me and led me down the hall, “Five minutes only, but I don’t think he is conscious.”

I walked through double doors marked ‘No Admittance — ICU’. Jim was lying quietly in a cubicle hooked up to wave monitors. He had a tube sticking into his left nostril. The only sound was the paper accordion ventilator that moved up and down the plastic column supporting his breathing. His face and eyes are puffy and bluish-black like someone had used his face as a punching bag. The woman stood behind me, “He looks terrible.”

She said, “He has four knife wounds on his left arm and chest. He lost a lot of blood.” She paused, “We know nothing about Mr. Park except his name. Can you fill in some of the details?” I stood quietly watching my badly damaged friend struggle to breath. I backed up a step which prompted the nurse to turn toward the door. “Are there other relatives that should be contacted?”

Immediately I thought of Jeremy. I said, “I’ll make those calls. I have my cell phone.” As the double doors swung closed she pointed to a nook down the empty hall. I noticed the clock over the nurse’s desk — 2:15. I was apprehensive about calling Jeremy. We had let Jim down. We didn’t protect him. I punched telephone number at Jim’s condo. I could hear one ring, a second and midway through the third ring a voice answered, “Hello.” I couldn’t speak. The voice said, “Hello.” It wasn’t Jeremy’s voice.

“Where’s Jeremy?”

“He’s in bed. Who wants him?”

“John Haffner.” I waited impatiently and almost hung up thinking of Jeremy in bed with some trick.

I heard Jeremy’s sleepy voice say “This is Jeremy.” I was nauseated thinking of Jim in the hospital and Jeremy shacked up with some guy.

“Jeremy, this is John Haffner,” came out.

“Yeah, what’s up?” His words snapped with irritation at the interruption.

“Jim has been brutally beaten and stabbed several times. He is alive but badly hurt,” I said. There was no immediate response.

Finally, Jeremy said, “Should I come up? Do you think he will die?”

“I know is he is alive right now.”

“You could come to Calistoga Community Hospital if you want to. I’ll call with you later with an update on his condition,” and hung up for fear I am going to throw up. I dug my hands into my pocket and pulled out a match box. On the deep brown cover was inscribed the Bohemia Club’s silver crest. I turned the matches over and see a telephone number — 707-923-2110. I dialed it and got a recording indicating that the desk would reopen at 6:00 am. I hung up and went back to the nurse’s desk to leave cell phone number so they could call if Jim’s condition changed.

The attendant had me fill out several forms. I tried to verbally assure the attendant that Jim was able to take care of the bill. As I wrote I remembered that Jim and I had the same US health insurance through the San Francisco Trading Company. When I pulled out my card and wrote in a number the attendant seemed relieved. When I left the emergency room the snow had stopped but the club’s 4-WD was buried in a foot of fluffy powder. The club vehicle started without faltering and flattened the snow as I rolled onto the street. The sun rising was so bright that I needed sunglasses. I put on the pair hanging over the rear view mirror. The Jeep made no noise as I floated silently through the snow. The evergreens were billowy clouds. The branches bowed before me as I drove slowly east. Laser sun beams shot threw the branches wherever there was an opening.

The stone pillars of the Bohemia Club appeared unexpectedly. I pushed the brake pedal and slid to the left toward the gate. I slowly turned in and instead of stopping at reception drove directly to the cabin. No one had driven this way but several sets of foot prints were evident in front of the cabin. I expected to find Lee and the boys asleep since it was 8:30 am. I walked up to the front door which was not completely closed. I pushed and it didn’t move. I pushed harder and the frozen base broke free.

The inside was dark. I could feel warmth from the remaining embers in the fireplace. My hand rubbed the wall in search of a light switch. My hand bumped a lamp which I switched on spreading soft light throughout the room. The boys were not asleep in the chairs where I had left them so I walked down the short hall. Standing in boxers and a tee shirt was Michael. “How’s Jim?”

“He’s hurt but I think he will be OK. Are Rob and Lee still sleeping?”

“I know Rob is but I don’t know if Lee is. I presume he is. I vaguely remember hearing loud voices when it was still dark outside. Let me check.” Michael turned and ran into Rob who has emerged from the bedroom.

“What’s the rush?” Rob snapped. “Where are you going?”

“To see if Lee is here.”

“Of course, he is,” Rob sarcastically added. Michael pushed past him and looked into the first room on the left side of the hall. “He was here but he is gone. The bed was slept in.” We stepped into Lee’s room. I opened the drapes. Both boys shaded their eyes as brilliant light filled the room. “Ouch!” Michael blurted then observed, “Looks like he left quickly. His underwear is still on the chair.”

“Maybe he put on clean underwear a concept some people in this room don’t think is important.”

“You know I hate to do laundry,” Michael replied.

“You said you heard loud voices. Can you remember what they were talking about?”

“When?” Rob questioned.

“Let’s back up. When I left last night you guys were asleep in the chairs by the fireplace.” Before I could continue we heard a knock at the front door. “Maybe that’s Lee?” Rob opened the door gets a face full of feathery snow. A young guy in the reception uniform stood there.

“Sorry to bother you but we need the Jeep to ferry some folks up to the lodge for breakfast.”

“Sorry I didn’t bring it back when I returned.”

“How is Mr. Park? Is that his name?

I chose not to answer him with a question, “He’s alive. Have you seen Mr. Kwan, not Mr. Park, this morning?” He shook his head. He stepped across the threshold carrying our bags. “I hope you didn’t carry the bags all the way in the snow,” noticing no vehicle in the drive.

“We looked for yours keys at the desk. All we found was your luggage which I thought you might need.” We took our respective bags, thanked him and I surrendered the four-wheeled drive keys.

“Where is the lodge? Is that where breakfast is being served? Will you come back and get us?

“You’re close.” He walked across the room and opened the blinds. “See the long, low building with the smoke coming from the chimney? That’s the lodge. Breakfast is served

until 9:30.” He turned to leave and he closed the door.

Jacuzzi at the Bohemia Cabin

Jacuzzi at the Bohemia Cabin

“I’m freezing and I see a Jacuzzi. I’m going for it.” The Jacuzzi was located on a small platform but was not attached to the cabin.

“How do you know it’s warm?” Michael inquired.

“Look at the steam seeping through the cover.”

“How do we get out there without freezing our balls off?”

“Walk through the snow.” In typical Rob fashion he stripped, threw a towel around his waist and barefoot ran out the front door around the cabin in knee high snow. Michael and I stood watching as crazy Rob threw the cover to one side in one swift move. He looked around for the controls and stepped into the swirling water. His facial expression suggested that the water was either extremely hot or cold. Since it was clear he wasn’t getting out Michael stripped off his boxers but left his tee shirt on. I undressed imagining the soothing water covering my fatigued body.

As my briefs fell to the floor Michael said, “Here’s a towel. Let’s go. We hurried around the cabin. On the deck we could see the young guy from reception talking to Rob. We both slowed our pace but kept moving for fear of freezing. Michael pulled off his shirt as we hopped up onto the deck. I tossed my towel on the rack.

No more than fifteen minutes later Carl, the fellow from reception, walked around the house. He had driven the Saab to us. He said, “Here are the car keys.” I took them and he looked longingly at the bubbling water. He turned to walk away. Rob said, “Join us if you want to. It’s fine with us.”

Carl said, “I’ll get my ass fired for fraternizing with the members.”

“We’re not members, just guests. What could that hurt?”

“Shit, why not?” The sun’s rays brilliantly penetrated the snow laden branches. Crystalline flakes fell onto our hair. The sun’s rays spotlighted Carl as he undressed. We watched as this guy in his mid-twenties untied his high top boots, rolled down his woolen socks before taking off his chocolate uniform pants. Underneath were worn Jockeys that barely covered his oversized middle. He hung his shorts by my towel. He unbuttoned his shirt revealing a gruesome scare from the middle of his right thigh to his groin. He realized we were watching and said humorously. “I lost my right nut in a motorcycle mishap.” He slipped in beside us. The soothing bubbles were having an effect on me. I could barely stay awake.

”John, do you want to know what happened after you left last night with Jim?”

“Sure.”

“We weren’t sound asleep when you and Lee were discussing events. As soon as you left, we rallied to see what Lee would do. He did nothing. He didn’t mention Jim again. He showed us around. He offered us some ice cream. The room got hot from the roaring fire augmenting the furnace. Layer by layer we undressed. That is why there were clothes all over the living room this morning. We were in bed within forty-five minutes. Lee, too, I think.”

My mind raced concerned about what the club guy was thinking. I said, “I saw footsteps in the snow in front of the house. I want to follow them before they get messed up.”

Carl said, “I saw them and they seemed to go toward the lodge.” I started to get out, Michael inquired about my night at the hospital. With deference to the club guy, I thanked him for the use of the Jeep and told them some of the story. Michael pulled himself up on the side of the tub saying, “When do we eat?” Michael was out of the Jacuzzi and ran toward the front door. Carl followed with his boots and clothes in his arms. I wrapped a towel around my middle as did Rob. He stopped to slide the cover of the Jacuzzi back in place. With freezing feet we ran.

Carl’s familiarity around us was puzzling to me. He followed Michael into the bathroom and turned the shower on. I knew the sooner Carl was gone the better I’d like it. I didn’t like the earrings in both his ears, two big gold nipple rings and a Prince Albert hanging from his oversized ball. There was little of his body that wasn’t covered with tattoos. We could hear Michael talking to Carl as Rob and I rebuilt the fire as we waited for our turn in the shower. A few minutes later standing before the fire, Carl retrieved his clothes. His hardened dick caused his towel to tent significantly but no one commented. He quickly dressed and said, “Thanks a lot. Let me know if I can do anything for you guys,” He grabbled each of our hands in a firm handshake.

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