While most of this novel is set in Philadelphia and Pennsylvania, I thought, why not let the boys get away?
The gay beach scene in Fort Lauderdale was surprisingly active, and after some research through old gay travel guides and magazines, I found a few tantalizingly retro posts about a specific place, The Marlin Beach Hotel, written about by famous gay blogger Joe Jervis, on his site JoeMyGod.
Jervis' personal recollections are mixed in with some wonderful historic visuals, which also link to some other resources.
The vacation is completely fictional for me, but serves as a shifting point in their lives, being in the company of many older gay men. While a crash course in gay life, for Reid and Everett, some other things - and one person in particular- prove to test their love and trust.
Here's an excerpt:
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Chapter 27: March 1982 (excerpt)
Spring Break.
The
paramedic.
Nick the
paramedic.
Nick, the
suntanned Italian feathery-chest-haired paramedic, didn’t so much hit on us as
not leave our company for hours after introducing himself to us.
Everett made
sly glances at the bulging green Speedo of Nick the paramedic, from Islip, who
stood, his crotch hovering near Everett’s face as we sipped drinks poolside
under the glare of a Fort Lauderdale sun.
Before
meeting Nick, on our first day in Florida, we endured a bumpy cab ride from the
airport where the driver seemed disturbed by the hassle of Everett’s chair
barely fitting into his trunk, or our destination, The Marlin Beach Hotel,
being a gay resort. It was probably both.
“Well, here
we are,” Everett said as he eyed the nautical décor and stuffed marlins hung on
the lobby wall.
As we entered
the hotel, we endured a few raised eyebrows from other guests, all men, most
wearing little more than swimsuits and flipflops. The desk clerk with a blond
mustache offered a flirtatious smile.
“Welcome,
boys!”
As Everett
dealt with the reservations, I looked around. Through a glass window, I saw the
pool, the source of some disco music being played.
“If there’s
anything you need, just let us know,” the desk clerk smiled. “The tunnel’s right
by the dance floor, but it’s got stairs, so you might want to take the street.
Tea dance is just getting started, so I hope you’re ready to have fun.”
After
squeezing ourselves into the tiny elevator, we finally found our room on the
third floor. While I plopped our luggage onto the bed, Everett wheeled past me
to pull open the drapes. Beyond the street below us, we marveled at the
beautiful expanse of blue-green calm Florida water, and a wide strip of sand
already filled with people.
“Wow,”
Everett said.
“Wow,
indeed,” I replied.
“This makes
up for the tacky décor.”
“So, what
first?”
“The beach!”
We changed,
stocked up on towels and lotion, hats and sunglasses, and crossed the busy
street to the beach.
After rolling
as far as we could, he parked at a cement wall. Carrying Everett through the
sand, I set him down, then placed a towel down, and left him with the small
duffel bag. I retrieved his chair, lay a towel over it so it wouldn’t get too
hot, and despite a generous slathering of lotion, we both tried to act natural
until the various glances passed.
All around
us, men lounged on towels, or further back, under cabanas.
“I never felt
so pale.”
“That’ll
change.”
“I never saw
so many mustaches.”
“Are they all
gay?” I asked as I looked around. Nearly all the men were tanned, fit in
various sizes and shapes, and some even held hands as they walked along the
shore.
“Pretty
much,” Everett agreed. “How about we get wet?”
Since there
were no waves, the warm blue water was easy enough for Everett to swim in,
except for getting to and from the surf edge, where I carried him piggyback
into the water. He wore a pair of old sneakers to prevent his feet from getting
scraped by any underwater rocks. Once into deeper waters, we splashed about
with some abandon, but I always stayed close, just in case.
“Now this,”
he said as he shook water from his face, “is what I call heaven!”
I spat a
volley of salt water, grinning in agreement.
We splashed
about, dove around and on top of each other, frolicking like dolphins, until
Everett, panting a bit, grabbed hold of me. “How ‘bout we head in?”
“Okay. Hop
on.”
I guided us
toward the shore, ignored the curious looks from others, then plopped down at
the surf’s edge. We sat, letting the waves wash up around us.
Once we’d
settled back on our towels, we rubbed lotion on each other, and tried to relax.
I still felt self-conscious in nothing but a swimsuit, until Everett’s hands on
me felt warm as he massaged my shoulders.
“You boys
better take it easy on your first day,” a man nearby called out.
“Is it that
obvious?” Everett grinned.
The man’s
friend leaned forward, surveying us with a grin. “You don’t want to spend all
week like a pair of lobsters.”
We shared a little more friendly chat, then relaxed
and lay together for a while. I held Everett’s hand, content to feel
comfortable surrounded by so many other gay men.* * *
You can read more about Reid and Everett's adventures in Florida in Message of Love.
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