For Todd there
is no such thing as just a voyeur. Stupid admirers definitely! His very
existence thrived upon them. Any man caught looking is presumed fair game and I
was desperately hoping he had a pre-scheduled victim in his sights or simply
wouldn’t see us.
My friend Edgar
from England saw Todd first. We had just bought cappuccinos in Blenz on Davie
and Granville. It was a warm evening in May and we had purposely taken seats
with strategic views of the street. Edgar was new to Vancouver. He only had two
weeks vacation and was eager to experience the very best in boys it could
offer. I should perhaps clarify his criteria of experience. Edgar liked to
look. Anything more he deemed too risky. I guess that makes him a voyeur as
well as a virgin, some, like Todd, might say, ‘stupid’.
Todd of course
isn’t his real name. I happened to know it
because I still have the green and yellow hospital band he was wearing one
night when he turned up on my doorstep seeking a mattress, even if it meant sharing
mine. I suspect he had overdosed on crack and, having woken up disoriented on a
bed in St.Pauls, wondered why no one was on his back. I knew better than asking
for facts. Fantasy and fiction are more Todd’s line. You swallow it, like so
much else, in deference to his exquisite beauty and seemingly endless expertise
in sex. Besides, you really didn’t want to interrupt him with the social graces
of conversation while he was doing better things with his mouth.
Considering Edgar’s professed concern
about risk taking I regarded his drooling look of lust totally inappropriate.
Todd was clearly coming our way. Had he needed a beacon to beckon him into
Blenz café, Edgar’s fixed gaze would probably have worked. In hasty desperation
I raised the popular topic of dining out later. Edgar likes good food. In fact
fine cuisine, which he can afford and I can’t, probably rates for him on a par
with the visual delights of pretty toned young men. Just then alas, the one
bearing down upon us presented a far more enticing visual feast and nothing I
could do or say seemed likely to distract him. Suddenly Todd saw us. It was as
if he had caught the scent of my companion’s expensive cologne and homed in on
it. He had a nose for money.
I wouldn’t want
to give the wrong impression; that I didn’t like Todd or hadn’t enjoyed endless
hours of loving carnality in his company. But I do take exception to my trusted
tricks walking off with DVDs and twenty-dollar bills lifted from the wallet I
had forgotten to hide. Having to instigate a strip search after sex is somewhat
counter productive. I braced myself for a frigid reunion, but was well aware
Todd would brazen it out for the sake of a new conquest.
Of course the
absurdity of the situation was the fact both Edgar and Todd were ideal for each
other. I was likely to be the only casualty of the occasion with my already
denuded ego further stripped. Todd could care less about actually getting laid!
He’d settle adeptly for a few minutes of your time with a little money up front
and a promised rendezvous later. He might even keep the promise, though that
would depend upon his crack head clearing in the meantime and no other fleeting
client crossing his path. It was all about the next fix. Long-term aspirations
were always tactical manoeuvres. Todd was the kind of tantalisingly eye-candy
tasted only in small samples, and punishingly paid for over protracted periods.
I have to
concede it’s hard to resist Todd’s beautifully honed charm and winning good
looks. He is half Jamaican and half some exotic mix of Native American with a
dash of Spanish. He has the longest natural eyelashes I have ever seen, and
that includes camels. Men and women turn their heads in the jet stream of his
passing, though in fairness to Todd, I do believe he has never been to bed with
a woman. Amazingly, for one who shuns the gym, he has the perfect proportions
of a miniature athlete. He is only five feet four and one can’t help looking
down on him in a disturbingly paternal way. His mother threw him out at
sixteen, the moment she discovered he was gay. He has survived the past six
years harvesting the streets of downtown Vancouver.
Edgar was
delighted when Todd introduced himself. I mentioned we had already met. I
enquired whether he had watched any good films lately. He smiled coyly in my
direction and deftly apologized for having borrowed my DVDs, without asking. I
expressed my unexpected pleasure at the implied prospect of their return and
with these niceties out of his way Todd lavished his attention on my friend.
“My dear boy,”
Edgar was saying, and I sat back simply to watch, “would you like something to
drink?”
I experienced a
mild shock at the realization I had no idea what Todd might like. In all the
accumulated time he had spent in my apartment I had never known him waste any
on quenching his thirst. But a cup of coffee, to go, seemed to satisfy his
immediate needs and he nuzzled into the sofa next to Edgar, their respective
left and right legs colluding. This was a little daring for Edgar, especially
in Blenz, even if it does flaunt the rainbow flag on its door.
Sitting
opposite the two of them was a little disconcerting. There was too much of me
in Edgar to escape painful comparisons and right now I thought he looked a
little preposterous. I rather hoped my English accent had toned-down a few
notches and that I wasn’t sinking in to the seat quite as heavy as he seemed to
be doing. Behind the two of them I couldn’t help noticing a mid-twenties couple
curiously eyeing this incongruous pair. Their conversation had suddenly ceased
as they tried to tune in.
‘Well Todd,”
Edgar was saying, ‘what is it you do?’
I seriously
hoped he wouldn’t answer honestly then relaxed with the realization he hardly
ever did. Todd smiled and his beautiful big baby eyes looked softly in to
Edgar’s rather too rosy face.
“I like going
to the cinema and reading.’
‘In to the
Arts, are we?’ exclaimed Edgar. ‘How delightful!’
“Perhaps we
could take in a movie sometime,’ said Todd.
I choked on my
cappuccino. He had never once offered to take in a movie with me. How would he
manage his crack, Edgar and the confines of a cinema seat at the same time?
“Actually,’
continued Todd, ‘ I was hoping to see ‘Farenheight 9/11’ this evening but I
seem to be out of funds at the moment.”
I think a
little scowl must have registered on my face. Todd acknowledged it with a
slightly mischievous smile. He was winning hands down and I knew what was
coming next. Edgar jumped in!
“As it happens
I have nothing planned for this evening. Perhaps we could go together?”
Edgar turned to
me.
“But I think
you’re doing something aren’t you dear?”
Edgar’s
speculation as to my evening’s activities had an irritating tone of command and
momentarily shifted my conflicting loyalties. I despaired of coming to his
rescue and, for good measure and possible future credibility, pitched in for
Todd.
“Actually,
you’re quite right Edgar, I must forego the pleasure of Todd’s company. At
least tonight! Perhaps he should buy the tickets in advance?”
Todd smiled
appreciatively, at me. Twenty dollars should have covered it but it was his
lucky day. Edgar only had fifties. We watched the pretty boy wander away,
almost skipping I thought. Edgar was smiling and I decided to leave him in his
happy state of voyeur’s bliss, sipping a cappuccino in Blenz, on the corner of
Davie and Granville. There was, after all, that ‘something’ which would occupy
me all evening. The couple talked again as I left, taking Todd’s untouched
‘coffee to go’ with me.
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