“Brian, you’re the only one who can make that decision,” I said. “But if I were you, I’d hold off for a few days, at least. Let me see what I can do with Mr. Hu. If we can remove the immediate threat, you’ll have a clearer head to think through what’s best.”
I had been dragged out of the closet myself, without the chance to present my own case to my family and friends, and it was a terrible experience. If I could, I wanted to help Brian avoid that kind of pain-for himself, his wife, and everyone around him.
When we wrapped up the call he was feeling less anxious, and I left for the Gay Teen Center and the relaunch of my self-defense/self-empowerment group. When I’d run the group in the past, several of the kids had been occasional prostitutes, hanging around places like Ala Moana Beach Park, and I hoped that one of them might know something about Lucas.
PREMIUM MEMBERS
I was sitting on the wooden floor of the church social hall when a tough girl named Pua, which is Hawaiian for flower, led the first couple of kids in. I jumped up and greeted her with a big hug. Hanging a little behind her was chubby Frankie, with sleek black hair pulled into a ponytail. He wore mascara around his eyes, which made him look like a raccoon, and I hugged him, too.
“Like old times,” I said. “All we need is Jimmy and Lolo.” I hadn’t expected Jimmy Ah Wong, now that he was comfortably settled at UH, but I wondered about Lolo, a tough boy who used to hang out with Frankie and Pua.
“Lolo’s dead,” Pua said. She reached over and squeezed Frankie’s hand. “He got into ice about a year ago, and then he OD’d.”
“What a shame. Poor guy.”
About a dozen kids showed up, and I had everybody lie down on the floor on their backs. I led them through some relaxation exercises and then a couple of yoga postures, to get them in touch with their bodies and into a good space mentally. Then I got Frankie to help me demonstrate a couple of self-defense moves, and after that we sat around in a circle and talked.
“Where have you been?” Frankie asked me. “We missed you a lot.”
“I’m sorry. I went through some tough times and I just didn’t feel like being out among people.” Kids have built-in shit detectors, and I could see that neither Frankie nor Pua was buying that. It was to be my day for confessions. “You guys remember the fireman I was dating for a while?”
Frankie nodded. “He was hot!”
Pua laughed and punched him.
“Yeah, he was. He was also deep in the closet, and you know being in the closet can make you do dumb things. He cheated on me and we broke up, and I was in a pretty bad place for a while.” I smiled at them. “But I’m back, and I’m sorry that I bailed on you guys. I want you to know that I’ll try not to do that again, and any time any of you have a problem, I hope you’ll come and talk to me.”
As Pua and Frankie were getting ready to leave, I said, “Hey, guys, can I ask you something about a case?”
“Sure, Kimo,” Frankie said.
“Frankie thinks he might want to be a policeman,” Pua said.
“That’s great. We need more gay cops. You’ve got to finish high school first, though.”
“I’m a senior. Me and Pua, both. Sometimes it’s tough, but I’m not letting anybody keep me from getting educated.”
“Good for you.” I hesitated, hating to bring up bad memories, especially when Frankie was so proud of his achievements, but I had to ask. “Listen, I know you and Lolo used to hang out at Ala Moana Beach Park, and I’m looking for information on a guy who hung there, too.” I pulled out the picture of Lucas.
He looked peaceful, though clearly dead. There was no blood or gore, but there’d been some settling of those handsome features. The cosmetologist at the morgue had done a nice job with him, trimming and styling his hair. If you tried, you could imagine he was just asleep-but you had to try pretty hard.
“You know him?” I asked.
“Lucas,” Frankie said, nearly spitting the name. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he turned away.
“Lucas is the guy who turned Lolo on to ice,” Pua said, putting her arm around Frankie’s shoulders. “He was a real bastard.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Somebody shot him about a month ago.”
“He was older than us, like maybe twenty-two or twenty-three, but he liked hanging around with kids,” Pua said. “Like it made him feel superior to be able to lord things over us.”
She squeezed Frankie’s shoulders, and he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “He always bragged about the guys he fucked,” she continued. “He’d talk about guys who were supposed to be important or powerful, like bank presidents and shit, and when we didn’t recognize their names he’d get all pissy.”
I felt like I’d gotten a shot of adrenaline to the heart. Had Lucas bragged about me? I knew he’d given my name to Vice. What if he’d told other tricks?
“I didn’t believe him most of the time,” Frankie said. “I mean, he had a huge dick, and I guess he was kind of cute. But towards the end, he was just this skanky ice whore. I didn’t see how any rich guy would want to fuck him.”
“You don’t know anything more about him? Like where he lived, or other guys he hung around with?”
Pua and Frankie looked at each other. Pua said, “Maybe Jimmy would know.”
“Jimmy Ah Wong? I thought he wasn’t…you know…hanging around the park anymore.”
Jimmy had been a hustler for a short while, after his dad found out he was gay and kicked him out of the house. But when I’d seen him at Aunt Mei-Mei’s house, he’d seemed happy, and I knew she paid his tuition and gave him spending money. “He’s not hustling,” Frankie said. “He’s, like, helping guys.”
Pua said, “He belongs to this gay-straight alliance at UH. They collect condoms and safe sex literature up at the campus, and then they take it down to the park and hand it out. After Lolo died, Jimmy was trying to help Lucas.”
I thanked them, told them I’d see them in two weeks, and started back to my apartment. I needed to get tested again-something I’d been putting off. I had always tried to be careful, but sometimes my guard slipped, especially when Mr. Hu was involved. Discovering that Lucas had syphilis gave me a new incentive.
A flock of orange-billed myna birds startled me, swooping down from the trees and right over the heads of a clutch of Japanese tourists crossing Kuhio Avenue. Once again, my dick had gotten me into trouble. Was I ever going to learn from my mistakes? Had I gotten syphilis, or something else, from Lucas or one of the other semi- anonymous tricks I’d fooled around with while Mike and I were apart? What if word got around the station that I had been involved with a dead ice whore?
Cops and firemen love to give each other shit. I knew cops who teased other straight guys with jokes about ass-fucking and dick size. Just a few days ago I’d heard one cop ask another, “What island you from, brah? Ho- Molokai?”
I was sure other cops talked stink about me behind my back. But I have a short temper and a strong right jab, so most guys knew not to go too far. I’d once kneed another cop in the groin when he suggested a gay man who had been beaten by a trick had been asking for it, and I’d head-butted a lard ass who told me I wasn’t fit to wear a badge because I sucked dick.
Since I came out, I’ve worked hard to be just another cop, reining in any behavior that might seem flamboyant, laughing at the fag jokes, even teasing a few guys myself when I caught them in over-bright aloha shirts or very fresh haircuts. Most of the time, I felt like other cops were able to look beyond my sexual orientation and see me, Kimo.
I admired Jimmy Ah Wong for turning his life around, and more for his outreach to the hustlers who congregated around Ala Moana Beach Park, gay and straight. He was going back to the place where he’d been at his lowest, and using his experience to help others.
While I’d tried to do the same thing, I wasn’t always successful. But all you can do is keep trying, right? I
