The partnership became legendary. Raul was already notorious, and those who suspected Alec of evil ways were now confirmed in their belief. Sabas and Shaw were inseparable. Most were attracted by their banter, others were frightened of it, and still others were contemptuous. The image they projected became so powerful that its implausible nature was overlooked.
Alec walked over to where Raul was standing. Their eyes and quiet smiles revealed their consciousness of the eyes upon them. Alec leaned against the wall next to Raul. They didn’t look at each other but surveyed the cafeteria as if it were prey. “How much do you have, Raul?”
“Six.”
“Seven,” Alec said, with a small satisfied smile.
“You won again.”
“Yep. Frank’s giving me the grass in an hour or so.”
“I should give you five then.”
“Yep.”
Raul’s eyes didn’t stray from observing the cafeteria, as he gave five singles to Alec.
“Thank you.”
Frank and Richard approached them. Frank, nervous, said loudly, “What the fuck you two guys doin’?”
Raul looked at him coldly.
Alec smiled challengingly. “Are you ready yet?”
“Well, if you want to get it now, we can. I thought you had to wait an hour.”
“I come and go. I thought I’d need more time, but I didn’t.”
Raul turned to Alec. “Are you going?”
“ ‘Why? They have us placed now.’ Richard,” Alec said, “will you drive us?”
Frank’s house was pure residential, rich Riverdale. They were let into the comfortable living room; two or three other students were there, listening to jazz on the stereo. Raul and Alec stared hostilely at the wall while Frank disappeared into a back room. In a moment he returned. “Do you guys want to smoke now?”
Alec looked at Raul. Raul dragged on his cigarette and said, “Well, it’s not our usual time, but we don’t owe anything to anyone.”
Alec slapped Raul on the knee: both of them rose and followed Frank into his room. The others followed. Frank’s room was small and uninteresting, but it had good exposure to the sun, which drenched the room. Alec and Raul settled comfortably into chairs, the others sitting on the bed and squatting on the floor. Frank opened his bottom drawer, taking out a small bucket filled with grass. The amount was incredible.
Raul whistled low and long. “Fields of plenty.”
Frank took out a pipe, filled it. It was lit and passed around, filled again, and then again. Raul leaned back in his chair, fatted by the feast. He snapped his fingers at Alec. “Cigarette.”
Alec took out one for himself and one for Raul. It took them ten minutes to light their cigarettes, to the glee of the others in the room.
Conversation was a low, quiet murmur; time passed in graceful flight. Richard, Raul, and Alec walked to the car in the hushed afternoon and drove away slowly. Somewhere along the way Richard stopped the car, said something wonderingly, and got out, Raul and Alec following. They swayed back and forth, watching Richard kneel down to inspect one of the tires. A passing breeze blew his jacket open. He stood up and looked at them. “Flat,” he said.
Raul and Alec laughed and laughed, stopped, only to see Richard’s face drawn in worry and break out laughing again. Quite naturally they rolled in the gutter, knees drawn up to their bellies, laughing hysterically.
7.
The commonest activities on the day of the opening carried a new electricity. Raul was possessed by a great calm, shrouded in a mist of contemplation. Only two or three hours before curtain time did hysteria become his natural state.
Alec was off getting in as much fucking as possible before the performance; his lust was desperate today, Raul had never seen him so frantic for it. Raul lingered among the costumes and in the theater, living with the dusty ghosts that would be alive in the evening.
Alec’s parents had returned from Europe, so the two ate out for privacy. They spoke of their feelings as they wound their way to the theater, their words and voices surrounded by an aura of tenderness but marked with cynicism as they entered the theater.
“It’s like having your virginity ripped away from you,” Raul said, opening the door.
Alec smiled. “How would you know?”
They were there two hours ahead of time so the theater, except for Miller and the stage crew, was empty. They waved to Miller, who was busy with last-minute checking, and went on up to the dressing room. They dressed slowly and began to make up, languishing in the slow transformation. The stage manager came by, warning them not to make up so early since it would be easily smeared, but he drew neither a response nor their attention.
They heard the gradual awakening of the theater as the cast began to arrive. Most stayed in the auditorium, chatting with girl friends, but some came up to begin dressing. Raul and Alec said hello to no one, giving a nod at most, their faces grim.
Nearly all the cast was in the dressing room as Alec and Raul finished. Their loud chatter and noisy preparations upset Alec’s and Raul’s concentration. They were dressed in black. Alec put a boot up on a chair, resting an elbow on the elevated leg. They surveyed the hot, busy room. Raul inclined his head toward Alec: “ ‘It’s like living in a public park.’ ”
Because of their cold looks and silent manner, everyone had decided not to approach them. Raul placed his cape on his shoulders, offering Alec his.
“No, I think not. Would you care for a cigarette?”
“Yes, very much.”
Their step was sharp, Raul’s cape swayed importantly as the cast cleared a path for them. They entered Miller’s office, which was filled with people. Raul and Alec ignored them, though some were faculty. Alec asked, “Is our makeup okay?”
Miller studied them. He nodded. “Very good.” The faculty who were there wished them luck, students slapped them on the back.
They escaped quickly, going down the steps, onto the stage, through the curtain, and into the auditorium. The girls and students there showed their admiration. The surge of ego. A student usher called to them, “Hey, you’re not supposed to be in the auditorium.”
Raul laughed loudly. “Did you hear that, Alec? He depresses me by calling it an auditorium and then asks me to leave.” Those in the audience laughed.
Alec smiled wryly. “Rubin,” he called soothingly, “you let us know when the theater’s being opened up and we’ll leave.”
Raul laughed. “Alec, um, we should leave anyway, should we not?”
“Ah, quite true.”
They swung about, exiting with much force. They smoked silently in a hidden corner of the theater. They had never felt so close as now, so at one with each other that a glance expressed a thought more clearly than language could.
“You know,” Raul said, “I think we use that severity with others to hide the feelings we have for each other. In some ways. I know it has a more important function for us, but no one would guess from our manner how close we are.”
Alec nodded thoughtfully. “I was just thinking,” he said quietly, “how our relationship is like the platonic relationships between boys in ancient Greece.”
Raul laughed idly. “If it wasn’t for your promiscuity, we’d be accused of homosexuality all the time.”
Alec put his cigarette out. “Did you know that for a while I was afraid you were homosexual?”
“So was I.”
Alec laughed.
“Once,” Raul said.
“No, you’re just asexual. I don’t see how you stand it, though.”
“Are you convincing yourself, or what?”
Alec laughed and beckoned Raul to follow him as he rose to leave.