(by Edward Zeusgany and Alex Anders,
© Copyright 2002, all rights reserved)

Each of his grandparents was of a different race, or ethnicity as folks sometimes say. The mother’s parents were African-American and European-American, the father’s, Chinese and Puerto Rican, that being mostly Spanish with some Native American thrown in. Grandfather had been stationed in the Philippines at the end of World War II. His maternal grandmother had been a rebellious northern free thinker, and still was, her daughter was no slouch.

After his paternal grandfather returned from the far east, he had started a very successful used car business, importing vehicles from the states. Then he was offered the chance to acquire the Island wide franchise for a Japanese car manufacturer. Against the advice that no one would want to buy them, he took a chance that proved to be sagacious.

These imports became very popular and he was able to authorize franchise dealerships in all the larger cities. Grandfather made money on every car that came in. Because grandfather had only one son, his father became vice president of the company shortly before Marcos was born.

They lived in a luxury apartment in a newly restored Art Deco building on the Condado in San Juan. This was where the best tourist hotels and casinos were lined up along a fine beach and on the other side of the principal street where the apartment building was located.

From the first, Marcos loved the beach. He was a beautiful child, people said. About the age of ten they changed that to handsome and he sometimes noticed men looking at him with hunger in their eyes. This excited him to his core. Seeing this, he would sometimes go to a man and chat with him. Marcos wanted to understand what it was they seemed to find appealing. It was even more thrilling up close.

He figured it out long before he had any actual experiences. When he was twelve he could go to the beach by himself after school and on weekends. He would play in the water with some other local kids, then break away from the group to stroll past the hotels and guest houses with their groupings of lounges that were set out on the sand for the tourists.

There was always someone who had a welcoming smile for him and a pleasant word. He flirted subtly. They would ask him about school, a subject he had no interest in discussing, to show that they had a genuine interest in him as a person. But he knew what they really wanted and he put up with their contrivance . He was offered refreshment, sometimes the use of the man’s room to take a shower, if he wished. He declined in the most charming way, unless.

The youth attended an exclusive private school right there in the Condado. On his way, to or from, and dressed in his uniform of gray slacks and blazer with the golden emblem on the pocket, he would sometimes run into a man he knew from the beach. This would jar the supposition the fellow might have had that he was a poor boy, and produce a revised appraisal of his worth.

Often he would chat with the same fellow more than once. Most tourists were there for a week, sometimes two. Occasionally one of these would suggest a proper activity off the beach, lunch at one of the better restaurants, for example. These invitations he would accept. This might be followed with a request that the boy accompany them on a round of the shops.

The man might offer Marcos a fine gift, a beautiful shirt, some cologne, an item of jewelry, some money. It was to these men’s rooms that the boy would agree to pay a visit. He accepted these things not because he needed or even cared about them for the things themselves. It was the tribute that satisfied, that he accepted and rewarded. The man, who proved himself worthy, might have the privilege of worshiping his body.

*****

In the night, when it rains, we have sex. Oh joy the dark, Oh joy the wet, It is then we are in our glory. Coqui, Coqui

Table of Contents :