PEG BOY (18 page)

Wexler was
surprised by the boy’s condition. He had been so beautiful on the previous day!
Now he looked like any other boy found on the streets; dirty and unappealing.
Wexler felt sorry for him and assumed Santiago had been beaten by one of his
customers, or perhaps had been attacked by The Hounds. The boy looked
miserable.

“Come,” he
said, leading Santiago to the small kitchen. “You can wash here. Do not be
afraid, clean yourself everywhere, you will not be bothered, I promise! Throw
your clothing away. I have a few things that another boy left behind. You can
have them.”

Santiago was
left alone. He stripped and poured hot water from the stove into a metal tub.
Once it was half full and tepid, he sat in it and felt his muscles begin to
relax. He looked at his body and saw numerous bruises, dried blood and vomit
everywhere, and he disgusted himself.

Wexler entered,
bringing the clothing. Even thought they were old, they were clean and in good
condition.

 “Sit quietly,
boy. Here, let me help.”

Wexler took
the soap and sponge and helped Santiago wash places he could not reach. He
laughed when he saw alarm on Santiago’s face, assuming Vincent had told him
about his love of boys. Now clean, this one was certainly a magnificent
specimen!

“Don’t worry.
I'm not going to try anything, at least not now. Maybe some time when you’re
feeling better and are in a better mood you can think of repaying me for my
kind and generous nature, but for now just relax and let me dry you and accept
me as someone wanting to help.”

Wexler spoke
with such unassuming candor that Santiago giggled and nodded that perhaps he
would be willing, at another time.

“Thank you for
your kindness, and I will be good to you in return. But for now I must find
this man, McIntyre.”

“Why?”

“I believe it
was he who sent the men after me. They broke into Vincent’s room and stole my
things.”

Santiago
noticed Wexler’s expression change from one of interest to one of fear. He
shook Santiago by the shoulders.

“You must
promise not to tell anyone you came to me for help. No one! This business is
between you and McIntyre. I am not involved! He would be angry if he knew I had
helped you.”

Santiago
looked confused. Wexler seemed paralyzed with fear at the thought of
retribution from McIntyre.

“I want to
find him. Where can I find him? He stole my things!”

Wexler began
to dry Santiago as he spoke, leading him to a tiny room off the kitchen.

“Santiago, you
must not do this thing. Do not try finding him. He will find you soon enough!
What happened was his way of making you realize that you need help and
protection. You
will
need protection in this town, and you could get
none better than from McIntyre. Consider whatever you lost, gone. McIntyre will
provide for your needs you if you do what he asks.”

“Thank you for
your kindness. I will remember it. And I will say nothing about what you did
for me today.”

Santiago was
angered that McIntyre could have his way. Santiago would not be ruled by
anyone! He would care for himself and would get back the things that had been
stolen. He also would make those who had misled him, pay dearly!

“I do not need
him! I can take care of myself.”

As Santiago
dressed, Wexler had all he could do to keep his hands from ravishing the boy.
When Santiago leaned forward to slip into the pants, the lines of his thighs
and ass almost were almost too much to resist and Wexler caught himself before
he reached out. The boy’s youth and beauty radiated and it would be a terrible
waste that it would be squashed or even more probable, that it would be burnt
out of him in a matter of a few months.

Santiago
accepted the offer of food. It was the first time he had eaten in almost two
days. Wexler brought soup, tortillas and sat watching him eat, his temples
throbbing with excitement and desire, but he made no move.

“I will return
Señor. There are things that I must do first. But I will return and then we
will do what you would like, with me. Your are kind. I thank you for your
help.”

“Santiago,”
Wexler laid his arm across Santiago’s shoulder. “I never force myself on
anyone. You need do noting for me if it is not what you wish. I helped you
because I wanted to. I am not friendly with McIntyre and if I can do anything
to make things difficult for him, then I will. But remember, say nothing about
this. He is a dangerous man when angry and he could make things difficult for
me. Those damned Hounds seem to be at his beck and call, and they would come
down on this place with a vengeance.”

“I will say
nothing. Do you want me to return?”

Wexler’s eyes
narrowed and his face broke into smile, and all at once he seemed like a child
with a toy.

“Of course I
want you to come back. I would be a fool to refuse what you offer. Frankly, I
can’t wait to hold and caress you and I am excited as we speak, as if you had
not noticed!”

Wexler watched
Santiago walk down the alley so not to be seen. It always depressed him to see such
beauty turn to waste. This was a sin! The life of a street-boy or brothel-boy
was worth nothing to anyone after the merchandise was used or damaged. If a man
took a liking to a boy, as sometimes happened, then there might be hope. The
man might buy the boy outright from his pimp and take him away from the sources
of dissipation. But these circumstances were rare. Most boys slid into
degeneracy with no hope of salvation.

Although
Santiago had a strong urge to seek out McIntyre and administer the kind of
punishment he had meted out to the men in the hills, he knew this would be more
difficult to do, and that it would place him in grave danger. He needed to use
caution and good judgment.

The first time
they had met, McIntyre’s eyes had been as black and as fearsome as any he had
ever seen and they had looked through him so that he had felt his very soul
scrutinized. He remembered how a chill had run through him when their eyes had
met. Everyone around him deferred to McIntyre’s every whim. His authority
seemed unquestionable.

More than
setting out to find McIntyre, Santiago wanted to find Vincent. When he got to
the boy’s room he found it empty. There were no sounds from any of the
surrounding rooms and it seemed as though the entire building was deserted.
Perhaps they were occupied or those in them were asleep? It was late afternoon
and not a time when the boys would be on the street, but more likely resting
for the work ahead. Once again Santiago gave the room a careful check to see if
anything had been returned. He saw the bed had been slept in recently and there
were two soiled towels on the floor which had been used for sex, as they were
stiff with dried semen.

Santiago
decided to look for Vincent where he would most likely be conducting his
business. As he walked Pacific Street toward Kearney, he noticed many men
standing about who looked at him with animosity. Santiago avoided them and kept
his eyes ahead, crossing Kearney and walking on the western side. The
neighborhood was one of vice and corruption, a place of opium dens hidden in
dark cellars and rooms for rent by the minute or hour. Devil’s Acre was a
retreat to any who wanted sex and drugs, and a favorite hangout for The Hounds,
and was not policed.

Fog filled the
Bay. The sun had begun to set. Night would bring the cold and he wondered where
he could sleep. Santiago folded his arms for warmth. Perhaps Vincent had much
less to do with the troubles, and would share his room? He might return to
Wexler and exchange sex for a warm bed. Nearing the doorway where he had first
seen Vincent, Santiago looked behind him and along the street, but Vincent was
no where to be seen. It was then that he noticed a man watching him. When
Santiago moved, the man followed. As he stepped into a doorway to avoid a
strong gust of wind, the man came up and stood nearby. Santiago said nothing as
he observed the man’s actions. When the man fondled himself and made an
inviting gesture, Santiago undertood. He thought of his lost coat, his gold,
and the prospects of a cold night. Perhaps it would be an opportunity to earn a
few dollars for a cheap room. Santiago nodded back.

“You are
available?” The man looked nervous. “I would like to buy some time with you.”

Santiago
stepped closer to him. The man was not old and although he was not attractive,
he was not so terrible. The fact that he already had an erection was evident.

“You will pay
me...” Santiago had to think of what Vincent had charged. “You will pay me
twenty dollars!”

“Do you have a
place to sleep tonight,” the man asked as though he already knew the answer.

“Why? Do you
want me to stay with you?”

The man
extended his hand. “Yes, please stay the night! My name is Gabriel..”

Santiago took
the man’s hand. He seemed friendly and spoke softly and his smile made him less
suspect. Santiago began to warm to the man but remembered what had happened the
last time he had placed trust in someone with a friendly smile.

“You will need
to pay first.”

Gabriel looked
at Santiago for a long time.

“You are a man
of business! Let us get down to it because I am also a man of business. You are
out at this hour with clothing that tells me you have little. Perhaps you have
nothing! What I have for you is ten dollars, a warm bed, and a heavy coat you
can have in the morning when you leave, after you have breakfast with me.
Certainly all this is worth more than twenty dollars! My ship is in the harbor
and the shipment of flour that I have brought from Valparaiso has not yet been
stamped by the government agent. I have not yet been able to sell the cargo. My
money is tied up for the time being. Is what I am offering. Is this
acceptable?”

Santiago
thought the offer more than just.

“I will go
with you. I will stay the night and you give me the coat in the morning. But I
want my money now!”

Gabriel
laughed as he reached into his pocket and withdrew several silver pieces, one
of which he gave to Santiago.

“You have not
told me your name. What shall I call you?”

“It is
Santiago. I am Peruvian.”

Gabriel
understood the code of street boys, that questions asked were often ignored.
Yet he was curious about the beautiful boy who seemed far removed from what he
was doing.

“How long have
you been here, Santiago?”

The boy
remained evasive, saying only that he had come from the south. In the few days
since his arrival Santiago had seen three hangings in public places, two men
and a boy, and all had been of Spanish descent. The code of justice in this new
land was swift and much too selective of culture! He felt unsafe and knew
divulging too much could only lead to his own demise.

“You are
buying me for pleasure, Gabriel. That is all I wish to give you. My life and
past are my own.”

“Well said,
boy! I will ask few questions. But perhaps you will allow me the luxury of
asking your age? I would be especially excited to know that. I am very fond of
young
boys.” 

It was then
that Santiago remembered the birthday that had come and gone while he had been
with his father in the hills. Neither had remembered. Santiago had turned
thirteen. So much had happened that there had been little time for the
remembrance of birthdays. Santiago smiled to himself as he recalled Don Emilio’s
poor memory for these kinds of events, having left the recollection of
celebrations to his wife.

Surprise
celebrations had always delighted Santiago, but now the date that had once
brought him so much joy, brought him only sadness. He did not want to think
about his birthday or of what they might have been doing on that day.

“I am
thirteen, Señor. I am a man!”

Gabriel
snickered, nodding affirmatively. “It certainly would appear that
parts
of you are those of a man’s. Come. My ship is this way.”

It was one of the
last moorings at the end of a wharf. The ship was small and it set deeply in
the water, the cargo making it rock laboriously with the swell of the tide.

“There is no
one about,”

Gabriel led
Santiago up the gangplank and unlocked the heavily fortified door that led
below.

“Where is
everyone?” Santiago heard no noise, not even in the bowels where there was
always someone sleeping or working.

“The crew
deserted when we landed. They have all gone to the hills. You saw the other
ships along the wharf? All but two have been abandoned. They will stay there
until they rot or are taken over by the harbor master and sold at auction for
the lumber. Hold this...,” 

Gabriel handed
Santiago a lantern as he struck a match. The cabin was gloomy, with little
furniture and all the shelves were empty. There were the remains of several
meals left on dirty plates, still on a table. There was a disturbing aroma that
seemed to be coming from the interior of the ship, and from several piles of
soiled clothing heaped about the room. Gabriel saw how Santiago sniffed the air
with displeasure.

“Throw open
the ports to air the cabin while I get us something to drink. I have not been
here for several days, as you can see. It needs cleaning.”

Santiago went
about the room opening all four ports. Gabriel gathered the soiled clothing and
threw it outside the door. He took down a bottle of brandy and poured two
glasses. Handing one to Santiago, he began to undress. The boy did the same.
Before the glasses were empty, they were in each other’s arms. Gabriel had a
firm body and Santiago enjoyed the feel of him, his eyes closed with fantasies
drifting with the taste of brandy that allowed his visions to run wild.
Santiago became aroused and allowed Gabriel what he wanted. The moment and
place recalled his pleasures with Captain Alvarez.