ト

my hands again. Don't know what to do about it. Won't go away-no place else to go. Won't stick to a job. So that's that. I don't know what to do with him. I can't turn him out, 'specially after I told him he could stay. He's not so bad as long as he's by himself, but I don't like his pals hanging around. He's in with the wrong bunch." Yes, I did remember Eric-that is, from what Andy had told me about him. Andy knew him when he was only fourteen years old and sold newspapers on the street. He used to take him home for his mother to feed, and sometimes, when he went out in the morning, he'd find Eric sleeping out in the hall, curled up on a newspaper. He wouldn't knock on the door. "Didn't want to wake up nobody," he explained.

Andy has a way of feeding people, and lending them money without embarrassing them. He doesn't eat much himself. Just a cup of coffee and cigarettes. Sometimes some eggs. He says most folks eat too much anyway. Many times he's asked me to dinner when I wouldn't have had anything but doughnuts and coffee otherwise. He makes it a casual invitation, like he didn't know you were hungry, and then he acts like his feelings would be hurt if you didn't accept. He's really a gentleman except when he has a reason not to

be.

Well, later, Eric stole nine cars and left them in various parts of the county, out of gas, before the police finally found out who was doing it. Then Andy tried his best to get him out of jail. He went to see the district attorney and some of the people whose cars had been stolen. Eric stayed in jail eight months anyway, and Andy was the only person who went to see him. Now, he was twenty-two, out of jail, husky, and mean as he could be.

We reached the gate and crossed the little fenced-in front yard where Andy has rose bushes, two juniper bushes, and all kinds of cut-flowers. A persian kitten came out the door and me-owed at us, stretching her mouth and front legs at the same time. "Hey, Frank, you got any use for a cat," he said. "This is Minnie. Fellow gave it to me 'cause it's a female. If you'll take good care of it, you can have it. I ain't got no use for it." He opened the ice box and gave the cat some ground fish on a saucer. Minnie approached it with all her kittenish enthusiasm. "Eric likes that cat. She, sleeps with him, right up in his arm pit. He sure is crazy about that cat."

For the first time, I knew Eric was a human being, not very sav ory perhaps, but still he liked that cat fur on his bare flesh, and I felt the skin get tense on my shoulders. I tried to visualize a mean, husky man like this sleeping naked with a kitten on his chest.

Andy and I sat on the porch drinking orange sode. Then Teplovitch came by, looking for Eric. Andy didn't know who he was. He was one of Eric's friends. I didn't like him, so I went for a swim. The water was cold. I swam out a little ways, and swam back ex-

mattachine REVIEW

hausted and panting. It was the first time I had been swimming that

year, and I didn't know just how tired I was, until I lay down on a cot in the side room and fell asleep.

I was awakened by a loud voice: "You tell Teplovitch to keep his ass away from here, or I'll bust it for him."

"I ain't got nothing to do with it." Andy was talking now. "You tell him. He's your friend. I didn't ask him to come here." "Well, if he knows what's good for him, he'll keep his ass out." The door swung open suddenly, and Eric walked in. I knew it was him, and I was lying on his bed. I pretended to be asleep. Then I opened my eyes, slowly as though I were just waking up. But it didn't make any difference, If he had seen me when he came in, he wasn't looking now. He kicked off his shoes, and called, "Hey, Andy, mind if I go for a swim." He took off his shirt. There was a 'scratch on his left shoulder and it was bleeding a little bit.

But he was not like I had imagined him. He was beautiful-like he had not grown, but just been built out of soft marble blocks. He started to take off his jeans, and then his eyes met my unconscious stare as I saw that they were as blue and as soft as the kittens, and he turned away.

"Who's this?" he motioned to Andy who was now standing in the door.

"Frank," answered Andy. "Frank, meet Eric," he said briefly and went out again.

"So you're Frank," he said, still looking the other way. "How's New York?"

"Fine," I answered, not aware of what I was saying, as he pulled up his trunks and walked out.

In the next room, Eric put the oars over his shoulder and walked out the door which faced the railroad tracks. He walked with a kind of subtle goose-step because he knew everyone was watching him. I watched him from the small north window as he walked along the river bank, swinging his left hand and holding the oars over his shoulder with his right. He crossed the plank and disappeared into into the barge. A moment later, he came out the wide door at the south end (I thought of a white Apollo advancing out of a black niche), and crossed to where the rowboat was tied. He threw the oars down into the rowboat and they landed exactly where he had meant for them to. Then he climbed down into the rowboat, his limbs moving as a marble Apollo's could never move. Now, I knew why Andy let him stay. He just liked to look at him. Eric loosened the rope and pushed away. Then he took the oars and began towing. Rowing further and further away and getting smaller all the time. When he was near the middle of the river, he stopped, taking in the oars while the boat coasted and tumed downstream slightly. Then he stood up and stretched and then dived in.