part 32

Subj:    please read this

From:   BoPeep

To:       MackAttack

Date: 11/25       9:25 a.m.

Dear Mack,

I’m sorry. I felt like you’d betrayed me. Come to think of it: You did!

Not just the letter. with the D girl, with the Jap, with the nipple sucker girl, and HER.

It’s not just you. It’s the people I thought I could trust, I can’t and I’m jsut so confused about why everyone around me seems to do this stuff. I’ve discussed the whole thing with Tad to the point that I’m totally sick of it. (Tad is IS TOO a good therapist!) Anyway, he says the important thing is to focus on how we are going to go on from here, and not dwell on the past. I need to state what my issues are.

Please don’t ever let that woman read my email again, okay?

I do think I need some time to sort things out without constantly reading about you and DMH, and all that. I try and handle it, but I must admit, it’s very difficult. I’m going to head to the airport now. Let’s start fresh. I need less frequency to these letters. Okay?

I’m not leaving, just taking a vacation to get some perspective. Or, at least, that’s what I think I want now. Okay?

Oh, and happy Turkey Day! (Although, I don’t think I’ll have any turkey this year, my Mom and sister went to Vegas, and you know my brother, he doesn’t “do” holidays at all. I don’t really care. I know you always liked it, though.)

Love you, Aimee..


Subject: seachange commencing?

From: MackAttack

To: BoPeep

Date: 11/26       12:01 a.m.

Dear Aimee,

I know you want me to not write. I figure you’re already gone, and won’t get this letter for a while. The distance you want has changed me. It’s changed the perspective. Forgive me, but indulge me. I feel that I can only reach out to you, explain these things to you. It’s a confessional for me, I must admit.

Things haven’t changed here dramatically. But I am changing. I am losing my detachment. Well, stuff going on inside me are things you might not find very interesting. Old fears I am discovering for the first time, or paying attention to them at least. Suppose it is because I have a lot of time now? No rushing by the clock demands. Time to take my time writing to you. (At risk of boring you?) That’s a major fear: being boring.

The boat itself could be boring, however wonderfully constructed. The boat and everything (and everyone) on it is a toy. Toys have novelty value. A dazzling few moments of fun in the light, and then all the sad shadows behind them.

Today was the first morning I woke without surprise that I am here. Everything about me resisting this is dumb — I mean, it doesn’t speak, it just resists. It was my own sad shadow alone in my apartment; alone without fear of being boring — that is, after Daphne left. She got bored. Once she said, “There’s only time for one of us to navel-gaze and try to find themselves, and it’s not your turn, Mack, because you’re a guy.” Well, she didn’t believe men had feelings, either. Seriously. She said so often.

Well, it’s not very entertaining, is it? And I AM supposed to be an entertainer. I watched a night watchman of the marina wondering what he found in his navel. Yeah, lint, okay, ha ha. Isn’t there something just damn unlike us to not BE entertaining? To not find a chase to cut to?

You never worried about it, Aimee. You never felt like a drag, or felt the dragging thing lumbering along behind you.

I’m always tempted to ask you if you have ever wondered about this-or-that; and should have learned by now that you haven’t, and you’ll tell me to tell you something glib and superficial. It gets bitter, the dragging thing, it can. It gets asshole cynical and snarky.

I quicken to interest of being seen constantly by the cameras on the boat, and I think it’s like being a girl. The cameras are like some magnet drawing all of my embarrassments to the surface and saying,

“Express yourself!”

Whee. Skip and go nude with it all on display. Could feel like the little child I was when my mom gave me baths in the kitchen sink. I didn’t know I was a boy then, Aimee. Or, rather, I didn’t know there was any difference between boys and girls. I was innocent like my church said of the pagans.

(Some woman in Greek myth said Apollo was effeminate and his sister was a dyke. So they went down and killed her.)

Well, Diana is planning a grand entertainment when we go out to sea this weekend. She is in an inspired phase and credits me. Her idea is to take the party beyond the usual fake and make it real, as that’s where entertainment turns into art. She has lined up nine or ten women who aren’t exactly professionals, yet, know what is expected. For them, to live out a fantasy of an orgy on a yacht — and get paid. I’ll meet Mr. Jerger for the first time; I’m penciled in somewhere. “Oh, yeah, meet my toy’s toy.” Aw, shit! Value. Crap. What I’m worth. This is a job, Aimee. Everything here is incredibly rich and I have to lower my expectations at the same time, drastically lower them. It’s in the runes. The idea that I can always go back to the department store is not appealing. The food is way better here and I am working out in the gym to be a good looking toy of a toy. Maybe whatever is getting beaten down in me deserves it.

Good luck on your trip. About love, sweety, it’s just not something I can feel right now. But it is there somewhere. Maybe I hoped you would tell me how wonderful life was becoming for me and be willing to ….. I don’t know. I need to write you. Even if you can’t get to a computer. I’ll write you as soon as we’re back to a connection.


p.s. I forgot all about Thanksgiving this year.   It was a turkey-less year all the way around. I like turkey, but now that you mention it, it seems that no-one remembered it around here.


Subject: I forget

From: MackAttack

To: BoPeep

Date: 11/28        11:51 p.m.

Dear Aimee,

I’ve been drinking pretty steadily since this trip began . well, actually since before it started (concerning Larry Jerger, but I don’t know how to talk about it.)

The guests were all onboard yesterday by 11, before Jerger himself arrived. But no one knew each other. I didn’t recognize any of the hookers from parties because they are all first-timers, gonna orgy with the big shots and, wow, isn’t that gonna be a power screw?; all followed Diana below to change into their enticements leaving me to play a little brunch music to three men who were strangers to one other. They took up places in the salon as far from each other as possible.

I bent my head to the keyboard, still uncomfortable in the new “uniform” Diana gave me to wear, some off-white silky material, hardly more than pajamas. It makes me feel like such a . can’t find the word. Erotic clown, maybe? She became too busy to answer my questions and told me to cooperate and trust her. But the three men appeared more uncomfortable in their full suits and icy stranger distances.

Then Vince Denny entered alone from the aft door. I recognized him immediately, but the other men didn’t seem to know him. It struck me then they were foreigners who weren’t familiar with this big action-adventure star. He nodded and smiled at each, but they turned away, and I saw confusion on his face. I returned his nod and waved at him, and he came over and asked me what was going on and why was he here?

Why was he here? Didn’t he know and why the hell was I supposed to? I was a star-struck drunk, Aimee. He stood a couple of feet from me. Without thinking, I said, “Why are any of us here?”

I may have slurred it. (You know how I am when I’ve been drinking for a long time. I’m a lousy drunk. You know, like, how my left eye stays open wider than my right?)

He backed away with a look of fear muttering, “Uh, yeah, okay.” I guess it was a dumb thing to say. I hoped it sounded metaphysical. (Anything other than just downright stupid blathering.)

While I had paused, the Persephone’s engines revved with a muffled roar. Two crew members rushed through the salon with suitcases followed by a short, smiling middle-aged man in a black overcoat, and this was Franklin Jerger. He made that known immediately, shaking hands and introducing everyone. I was surprised for the way Diana and others talked about him. I expected a heavy imposing presence. Instead, here was a merry little man with thick salt-and-pepper hair. He glided through the room like he was on rollerskates. He smiled and joked and made all the strangers relaxed. They started chirping like contented parakeets, as they’d known each other for years. The atmosphere warmed right up. The moment the conversation started, he smiled directly at me and gave me wink and a thumbs-up. I had gotten over the want to hate him at first sight, hate him for his money, his superiority. Even his line of business.

I liked him at first sight.

Everyone had a good appetite by this early afternoon. The Persephone has turned south along the coast. Jerger seems to make anyone feel like old friends, maybe even family. He’s amazing. Even the stupidest, oldest jokes are delivered with some essence that makes them fresh and fun. He sings snippets of funny songs and does soft-shoe dances. He’s really very likable. I can hear them roaring with laughter out there right now. He is what I’ve always wished to be. Comfortable, commanding, and assured.

I’ll try to write more this evening, but I just found out Diana mentioned to Mr. Jerger my time with Akiko. He thinks an example of me playing the piano while a girl is tied in intricate bondage will make a perfect entertainment. They brought a Korean girl on board at the last minute because they couldn’t find a Japanese. I haven’t seen her yet. It may be pretty late before I can write again, but I’ll try .





To: BoPeep

From: MackAttack

Date: 11/28        4:23 a.m.


Vince Denny still doesn’t know what he is doing here. He is the odd man out. Doesn’t fit at all. I’m beginning to wonder if he knows how he got here. Mr. Jerger at dinner introduced Denny as good propaganda. I think Denny got angry. Jerger seemed baffled by this reaction. People like to see mayhem, he said. They like to watch Denny blow things up. Something clicked in my head as I listened to Denny argue about what people should think and artistic intent. No one really cared, although they were politely silent while he rallied on.   People do that to me, too.

The three foreign men on board are from three neighboring nations that are almost at war with each other. But, Denny is the grease. He invites them for a time of laughter, good food, and sex. Here are three enemies who won’t sit down for a peace talk, but will come together to get naked together and have sex out in the open with American girls.

Speaking of the girls, one of them kind of gone off the deep end. Her name is Kat. She’s so into it, she can’t get enough sex and has started to whine about it.)

Maybe since I’ve been here with Morgan-Hughes, I’ve grown used to strange things? I could see a look in Denny’s eyes that was just like me not long ago. Only far more intense for him. I mean, at least I stopped being a liberal. But then I suddenly didn’t care how much that sounded like me. Is it good to stop caring?

I’ve got to keep this brief because I have a show to put on shortly. I’ve met Rho, the Korean girl. She’s very sweet and I think she understands why I’ve got to tie her up. It’s been a while since Akiko showed me, but I think I still remember the simple “pelican rising from hungry barracuda” position. I’m playing a selection from Le Carnaval des Animaux by Saint-Saëns as accompaniment.

Hope you’re having fun on your trip, btw!




Subject: Oh damn

To: BoPeep

From: Mackattack

Date: 11/28        11:01 p.m.


There was a pretty bad scene in the area below the salon when I was ready to tie Rho up. No one had explained it to her in her language, and no one on board speaks Korean. I came at her with the ropes and she jumped up to defend herself. Morgan-Hughes said we couldn’t postpone because when Jerger expected something, he was like a little boy if he didn’t get it. So she got Mandy to volunteer to take Rho’s place. Now, normally, I wouldn’t mind. I’m not inflexible. I’m not a diva. But I’d already lost the Japanese edge and now had to settle for a basic white girl. The whole thing loses its meaning without the East-meets-West theme. And this was my big debut to see if I will be hired on here full time. Yet, what could I do? I was so pissed off that while trussing up this naked blond, I made a mess of the knots and had to redo while Morgan-Hughes was bitching at me to hurry up. By the time I had Mandy on the platform that would raise her dramatically into the salon, she was already spewing like a sewer about how much it hurt. I had to lower her from the winch to let her get some weight on her knees, and now the effect was totally spoiled. You white girls don’t believe in suffering for your art. Akiko never complained.

Well, I was a shaking wreck when I got to the piano. I had no time to calm down because Jerger had something else planned for the evening. I told the crewmen what I was playing and that they should wait to raise the platform until after I finished the Introduction et Marche Royale du Lion and started Poules et Coqs . But this is what I get with no rehearsal. Up she came through the floor the moment I started playing. And with no proper expression, either, no dramatic sense. She turned her head and talked with her sister whores during the whole performance. I was hoping for tears by Le Cygne and cheers by Final, but is was just a mess.

But Mr. Jerger was pleased. He gave me another thumbs-up as he approached the piano and told me to talk with him in his stateroom later. I started to apologize about how the whole thing went off horribly, and he said,

“Son, you got through with it. You got it done. I like that.”

A nice man, Aimee. I felt good about what he said because lots of times I won’t finish what I start if things aren’t perfect. He was right. I had plowed through this. And it was over, and the guests were being ushered out onto the deck in the night to see Mr. Jerger’s demonstration, so what the heck?

Only Morgan-Hughes had something to say about it. She sat down on the bench beside me laughing when everyone else was outside. “I’ve been watching to you tonight, Mack, and you know what?” she said. “You truly are a little man.” I could smell the heavy booze on her when she leaned to kiss me on the cheek. “Don’t worry about it. We all have little nights. Little shriveled up shrively nights.”

What a bitch. But I always knew that about her. I caught her wrist when she started to get up and asked if she had been faking orgasm with me. Her smiled dropped and her face went flat. “Did anyone ever tell you to get a life?” she said. “I am your life. The answer is No, you bastard.”

If we weren’t expected outside with the others, we would have fucked all over the salon right then. But we didn’t have the time luxury, so we just kissed and I felt I could stay that way with her forever.

V says she is an evil woman, huh? What does he know about the natural attraction to evil?




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