"It was funny-a couple of years ago I wouldn't have gone for Steve. He was sort of young and loose and goofy, and I usually went for more intense kinds of people, or guys who were savvy and cool, like Huey. But I guess somehow I was ready to just let go for a while and be a kid-I'd never done that when I was a kid-and I really fell for this happy-go-lucky young jock.
"At first I thought, oh Jesus, I really shouldn't. Not another involvement. I had the feeling right away that it might lead to something like that, and I was reluctant. My life was already going along pretty well-I had my job, which, shit job though it was, I enjoyed and it kept me solvent.
And I had my friends, Mark and Huey-and Chris, who was always there when I needed her.
And, of course, I had Frank, who gave me something nobody else could-I really don't want to go into that, if you don't mind; it's sort of embarrassing. Okay?"
I nodded. We'd come back to Zimka.
"Maybe all that sounds to you like kind of a crazy, fragmented life," Blount said, "but I was just thankful, even after nine years, to be out and on the loose and in charge of my own life. And anyhow, who is there really, gay or straight, who finds everything he wants in life in one place or in one person? I think it doesn't exist, and people who say they have it all-in a wife, or husband, or lover, or family, or great house or perfect job-those people are kidding themselves, and what they really mean is, they have the one or two things they want most, or that society approves of most, and to keep those couple of things they're willing to give up a lot of other things they'd love to have: variety, money, good sex, security, adventure, or whatever.
"Actually, I did have it all, in a way, even if it was spread all over town, and it would have been beautiful-damn near perfect-if I'd gotten my parents to accept me, too. That's the one thing I've never had, and-well, I guess that's the one thing I'm not going to have. You've met them, and you must have seen how hopeless they are. If I'd had a brother or sister, that might have taken some of the pressure off, but I didn't-I don't-so-what the hell. Fuck Stuart and Jane.
Just-fuck 'em."
He sat silently for a moment. Then he reached for another cigarette and offered me one. I declined. He lit his, dragged deeply, and exhaled. He went on.
"So anyway, I'm cool, right? I went out to Trucky's that night with Mark, and we were going to dance and maybe meet some people we know and go get something to eat, to the Gateway or out to Denny's, and then I guess I had it in the back of my head that I might call Frank later and see if he wasn't busy.
"But I met Steve Kleckner instead. I'd seen him around some, mostly through the glass in the DJ booth, and I'd always thought he was attractive, but I really didn't know him and hadn't thought much about him. He was off work that night, though, out at the bar, and acting kind of mellow and funny and having a real good time, and one of the bartenders who knows me a little introduced us.
"We clicked right away. You know how it is, probably, when two gay guys who are physically attracted to each other meet, and each is sort of up-and ready, even if you don't know it-and you're both a little high, and there's this warm, simpatico something that goes back and forth.
You're trading lines and laughing at the same things, and you recognize in the other person's stories of his life a lot of the downs and hassles you have yourself, and you know he's understanding yours, and then there's the sexual tension underneath it all that both feeds the closeness and makes it feel incomplete, and of course the atmosphere around you is saying do it, do it, do it.
"Well, that's what happened with Steve and me that night. We danced and drank and carried on and had a great time together, and then we left together to go do it, to make it complete.
"We left Trucky's around three. Mark had left earlier with this tall blond number he'd turned on to, and we rode into town in Steve's old junky-ass Triumph Herald. We had the top down, it was a warm night, and I remember the car making this awful racket, ka-bang, ka-bang, ka-bang as if there were firecrackers under the hood. Steve said it wasn't important, not to worry, the car always did that, something to do with a worn drive chain that would set him back three hundred to replace, and the car wasn't worth it, he'd just drive it till it quit."
The time had come to find out something. I said, "A question. Did you notice who left Trucky's around the time you and Steve left?"
He thought about it. Then: "No-I can't remember. Actually I was a little high, and I don't think I was noticing much of anything except Steve. I remember we sat in his car in the parking lot and kissed and messed around a little before we left. I suppose there were some people coming and going, but I don't remember who. Nobody hassled us, I know that."
"Then you wouldn't have noticed if another car had followed you?"
"Well, I supposed there wouldn't have been much traffic that time of night, but-no. I didn't.
Jesus, do you think one did?"
"Yeah, I do. Do you remember seeing a big, new gold-colored car in the parking lot when you and Kleckner went out?"
"I don't know. Maybe. I just can't remember. Whose car would that have been?"
"Frank Zimka's-a friend of Frank Zimka's car. With Zimka in it."
"Frank? I don't think Frank was out that night. No, he wasn't. I saw him in the morning. I went there-after it happened. Or did he tell you that? I suppose he did. You seem to have a knack for getting people to tell you things they're not supposed to repeat." I lowered my head contritely. "I owe Frank money," Blount said, "for the plane fare. Chris has part of it. She'll mail it to Frank when she gets back to Albany. So it won't have a Denver postmark."
"Kurt taught you that?"
"That one I figured out for myself."
"What did you and Kleckner talk about during the ride to his apartment? It would have taken fifteen minutes or so. Did Steve mention that he'd been depressed over the past few weeks? His friends say he had been."
"You know, as a matter of fact, he did mention that. He said he'd been down and I'd helped him climb out of it-that made me feel good-and he said he wasn't depressed anymore. Just older and wiser."
"Why? What did he know that he hadn't known before?"
"He didn't say. I might have asked him-I probably did. But he just said something about the ways of the world and then dropped it."
"Was he afraid?"
"Of what?"
"Of what he'd learned. Of the person, or people, it concerned."
"No. Not afraid, I wouldn't say. Just sad. Sad when he talked about it, but not sad after and not before. Steve was just feeling too good that night for anything to keep him down."
"So you arrived at Steve's apartment."
"Yes. We went in, and at first we stood in the living room for a long time kissing and groping around. We were both really hot, I remember, but we couldn't seem to quit long enough to make it to the bedroom. You know how that is, right?"
"Right."
"Pretty soon our clothes were off, and we started back toward the bedroom. I remember Steve turned on the radio when we went by it."
"Disco 101?"
"Sure."
Sex music. The year before I'd gone home with someone who'd put on some old Nat Adderley records, and I was so disoriented I could hardly remember where I was and what I was supposed to do. Though gradually it came back.
"So you made it to the bed. Were the lights on?"
"In the living room, a lamp, I think. There was some light coming into the bedroom from that.