Let the Good Times Roll

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Old Gregg enlists the help of his old man, the Hitcher, to reunite with his beloved Howard. When Howard goes missing on their trip to New Orleans for Mardi Gras, Vince once again has to save Howard in every way possible.

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Chapter 6

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Chapter 6

Sally thought it was a yes or no question but clearly she was wrong. It was in fact a question that involved a long story including a cabin in the woods, a gorilla, a shaman, a man named Kodiak Jack and Yetis. Lots of horny Yetis.

“So Howard shows up lookin’ like he’s on his way to audition for ‘Hair’, like he’s gonna start singing ‘Let the Sunshine In’ at any minute. Oh, he had on this long robe and hippie face paint, a real flower child. His eyes were well glassy and he says his name is Parsley and starts singing this really catchy song about how we don’t need our friends and family and nothing is real. Naboo told me to stay punk and resist…”

Sally looked at Vince’s golden hair and sequined top. Even with the green and purple highlights, the word punk did not come to mind. Strange, androgynous, beautiful, confusing, delusional – those were words that described Vince, not punk.

“But then Naboo and Bollo were singing and dancing and Howard was smiling at me so nicely… It just seemed like a good idea, ya know?”

“So you started singing and dancing?” Sally asked as they walked from her truck to the pier. She wanted to hear the end of the story before she and Vince were alone in the swamp. He seemed sweet, but he also seemed unhinged and a girl needs to be careful.

“Everything went a bit fuzzy, like I’d been drinking champagne. The Yetis gave me a robe and put my hair in bunches…”

“Bunches?” Sally asked.

Vince used his hands to pull his hair into ponytails. “Bunches.”

“Gotcha.”

“And I guess they gave me the feather or maybe I did that… I don’t remember it very clearly but I was rocking a Pocahontas look and we was all dancing and singing and then the Yeti brought out this big fluffy bed…”

“So they could mate with the four of you?” Sally asked, She was trying to walk slowly, still wondering if she should just make a run for it.

“Apparently that’s what they do, though it don’t make much sense if you ask me.”

Sally was glad to hear Vince admit that at least this part of the story was lacking in logic.

“Anyway,” Vince continued, “Parsley put his arms around me and just held me… and I was thinking I could be called Bunches, cause of the hair but also because then we’d be Parsley Bunches or maybe Bunches of Parsley and we could start a folk duo. Not like the glam rock folk duo I had with Leroy, that didn’t work out at all.”

Sally was entranced by the story but also kept her hand on her bag, just in case she needed her gun. There seemed to be a lot of attempts at non-consensual sex happening in the story.

“So he was holding me and I was so happy…” Vince’s cheeks pinked slightly, “And then he started kissing me and moving me towards the bed.”

Now Sally’s cheeks were turning pink. Her lack of attraction to men in general didn’t keep her from enjoying a story of man-on-man loving.

“I remember lying on the bed, with the gown rucked up around my waist and Howard was on top of me, kissing me and… touching me and I think maybe getting me ready for, you know, and then…”

Sally actually leaned forward before catching herself and putting her hand back on her bag. She wasn’t going to end up dead at the bottom of a swamp because a beautiful androgynous man told her a dirty story.

“And then?”

Vince shook his head, as though coming out of a trance, “And then I woke up to the sound of a gunshot. Kodiak Jack was there and telling us to run. We were all on the bed and Bollo was between me’n’Howard so I don’t know what went on in between. I remember more than anyone else because I was the last to go under the spell. I don’t know what happened, if we made love or if the Yetis stopped us or if we passed out… anything could have happened.”

“Do you think the Yetis… mated with the four of you?” Sally asked, unable to help herself. Vince’s madness was intoxicating.

“Based on how they went after Kodiak Jack, I think we’d know if that happened to us,” Vince explained, his loopy grin returning, “He seemed to enjoy it but he was getting well roughed up by those hairy ladies.”

“Did you ever talk to Howard about what happened? Or might have happened?”

Vince shook his head and looked at his feet, hiding behind his hair like a child, “No. I didn’t know how he’d feel about it. Especially since he don’t remember any of it or why he did it…”

“I think we both know why,” Sally chided, “Is that the only thing that’s gone down between the two of you? Sorry, poor choice of words.”

Vince didn’t seem to notice the accidental pun, “There’ve been lots of times when something almost happened or sort of happened but I always started it and he always ended it.”

Sally put an arm around his sequined shoulder and Vince leaned into her and whispered, “I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

And that was the end of Vince’s thirty minute answer to the question, “Have you and Howard ever fucked?”

xxx

Sally had cast all reason aside and decided Vince was clearly too sweet to be dangerous, even if he did claim to talk to animals. She now held her gun in case one of the gators didn’t care for Vince’s questions. He’d chatted with a few otters but said they were ‘totally mental – furry little retards’ and the birds were also of little help. Vince claimed the alligators had thick bayou accents and were hard to understand. Sally suggested, facetiously, that he needed a translator. Vince gave her a big kiss on the cheek. Sally blushed as she scrubbed the lip gloss off her face. Surely, Howard had been in love. If it weren’t for the skin-tight pants making it clear Vince was in fact a man, she might have fallen in love herself.

xxx

Howard had no sense of time. Sometimes he was awake and sometimes he was dreaming, and it was difficult to tell the two states apart. One minute, he was teaching a fifteen-year-old Vince the ins and outs of seed distribution, the next he was having Bailey’s forced down his throat.

Surely, life was not so unkind as to make the force-fed Bailey’s from a merman be the reality. Howard spat out the taste of beige and rolled onto his back. Old Gregg was looking down on him with concern. Old Gregg was always there when he opened his eyes, ever the attentive nursemaid. Howard appreciated the cool cloths on his forehead and neck and the constant changing of his linens as he went from freezing cold to sweating profusely at random intervals. He even appreciated the cool but brackish water that started him vomiting all over again.

He was less appreciative of waking up to find himself being, for lack of a better word, snuggled by the merman. He did not especially appreciate the nude watercolors of Howard that seemed to multiply every time he opened his eyes. He did not appreciate the constant feeling that he’d been tampered with while unconscious and he did not appreciate the fucking Bailey’s being poured down his throat.

“I need water,” his voice was barely a whisper.

“The water made Howard sick,” Old Gregg explained, offering more Bailey’s.

“Fresh water. I’m dehydrated,” Howard explained, weakly trying to push his sweaty hair from his forehead.

He didn’t hear Gregg’s response.

He sat on the sofa in the living room, waiting to ring in the New Year alone, in front of the telly. He had a moderately priced bottle and two champagne flutes, just in case Vince decided to come home early. It was a long shot but sometimes holidays made Vince cling to Howard – his surrogate family.

Vince did come home before midnight, saying some nonsense about wanting to spend more time with Howard, as though they didn’t spend nearly every waking moment together as they had done for the past fifteen years. They clinked glasses at midnight and just as Howard prepared to ask Vince if he had any resolutions such as, “Have bigger hair, do less work in the shop, be more annoying to Howard,” the joke died on his lips – smothered by Vince’s mouth. Howard dropped his half -full champagne glass but otherwise remained motionless as Vince kissed him. The kiss was gentle, romantic and utterly unexpected. When Vince stood up and moved to the stairs, Howard felt a coolness on his forehead.

This is a dream.

In reality, Vince had gone upstairs and they hadn’t discussed the kiss again. Howard called for Vince to wait.

Vince looked surprised, “That’s not what happened. You just let me walk up the stairs. You didn’t even look back.”

“Yeah, well this is a dream, innit? Why did you kiss me just then?”

“It was over two months ago,” Vince reminded him, “It’s nearly Mardi Gras. You’re going to miss it if I can’t find you.”

“I’m with Old Gregg… somewhere.”

“I know that, you berk! But where? A swamp? The middle of the Mississippi?”

“I think it’s in the Mississippi, I mentioned it once and Old Gregg didn’t argue…”

“Do you know how big the bloody Mississippi River is!” Vince exclaimed, “It could take me years to find you!”

“I don’t think I have years,” Howard said, trying to keep his dream voice calm.

Vince flew down the stairs and threw his arms around Howard, “I need time Howard. Hang on. For me.”

Howard could feel Old Gregg’s tutu on the back of his thighs. He’d be awake soon.

“I’ll try, Vince.”

“I love you, Howard. I thought it would work if I took things slow. I’m sorry.”

“Hurry, Vince!”

Vince’s name echoed through the cave and Old Gregg did not look pleased. Howard closed his eyes.