From Chapter 30, we get contemplative Ellery:
He also wondered what he was going to do about the Red Stallion. He was without a bartender or bouncers, even though both Dupree and Ennis were now on the mend, but the security issue remained: and the next bartender he hired, he would have to do a full background check as part of the interview. Maybe it was time for him to consider selling it. But then again, under the shadow of a crime spree targeting queers, it would be a terrible business decision for him to close down an otherwise busy and lucrative bar in a desirable part of town, near the sheriff’s station, and then dispose of it.
Besides, he didn’t want to get rid of the bar. The Red Stallion was the right kind of bar: not exactly “down low," so therefore, men could find it if they know what they were looking for in the newspapers in the larger towns, and yet it was discreet enough that passersby perceived it as a private billiard hall or card club. That was how Ellery wanted it to stay, and closing the bar would destroy a fragile and discreet reputation the Stallion had built up: not threatening to the business district it was a part of, and providing a safe environment for queer men to meet and socialize. It was a social experiment, and one Ellery was very reluctant to end, since it would take away an important element of queer life in Laramie.
He reached for a cigar and lighted it, taking long, slow drags. There was too much to think about. He once believed that he thrived on stress, but it appeared this was no longer true. Age, experience – and perhaps most importantly, Ennis – had taken most of the thrill out of living a stress-driven life. He looked at their body armor, lying in the heap of hastily abandoned clothes, wondering how long it would be before they could both step out of the house and be certain they were safe.
He glanced down at Ennis’s face, the faint lines of age that had begun to appear around his eyes and between his brows, now smooth, youthful, as if he had grown young in sleep, transformed to an earlier, more innocent time when life seemed more certain, and he frowned, unhappy. He, Ellery, was responsible for much of the risk that faced Ennis now. Was it wrong for him to ask him to work at the bar, which had led to the beating and kidnapping? Or were there Langs always lurking somewhere, ready to lash out at someone preventing them from living on the edge of life, imposing themselves on the world around them as if they were entitled to it? He felt guilty, and his guilt made him consider, for the first time, whether it would be better for Ennis – no, for both of them – to sell the Red Stallion.
Ennis stirred in sleep, a tiny whimper, frightened-sounding, escaped him, and his eyelids squeezed together, tears squeezing out. Another small sound – from between slightly opened lips – and he fell back into his dream. Perhaps he was dreaming of the attack. It was worth asking Ennis about the idea of selling the bar – it was he who had been kidnapped, after all.
This is such a great chapter - love getting into Ellery's mind, where we hear his thoughts both as "Mayor of Queerville" about his "social experiment" - and as Ennis's man about the weight of worry and responsibility that comes along with loving someone.
Marie
Topic: Taking Chances, by E. L. Van Hine and L.H. Nicoll (Read 3165630 times)