Back to Boys
Hannah Martin
Surrounded by the smells of sin, Danny and three other sailors wandered the streets of Hong Kong. Gawking at street vendors selling live chickens, Danny was almost glad that he wasn’t traveling the streets alone. He looked the other guys, marveling that he would be hanging out with such a strange mixture; they were completely different from his friends back home. But with the four of them sticking together, no one was going to get mugged or even just lost; Danny knew he should be glad for their company.
It was Danny’s first visit to Hong Kong. All he knew was what he had been told about the city: once a harbor of independence and a freedom that frequently crossed the border into excess, it was now a bastion of Red China, Communism, and the embodiment of everything abhorrent all good freedom-loving people. Or perhaps not. Looking around, Danny couldn’t see how the city’s decadence and commercialism could have been curbed at all. Buying and selling was going on everywhere, huge signs advertising everything from socks to sex to “authentic” knock-off Rolex watches, many in a pidginized English that kept the young men chortling:
SHOOS CHEEP
FOOD GOOD, VERY SHEEP
HAPPY SALE
Of course, there were the numerous signs in bright red or black characters, or storeowners standing out front calling out their wares in Chinese. When they saw the four obviously-American men walking towards them, they would switch to English (with varying degrees of success), or just gesture widely, nodding and smiling, and say, “Come, come. Very cheap.”
In some ways, Danny was living the dream, seeing the world—just like all the recruitment ads. His ex, John, had told him he was crazy when he started talking about the military. “Are you fucking insane?” had been the terminal question, but Danny had been sure it would be like the movies. You know, men with perky butts in tight bell bottoms, combined with the type of male bonding that can only be found in high-stress close-quarters situations. Plus, he could use the college money. Dad wasn’t exactly clamoring to chip in and pay for his faggot son’s education, and Mom could barely pay her own rent.
The Navy had seemed like the best choice back then; safest, at least. None of that hiding behind bushes while people shoot at you. Looking back on it, the Air Force might have been wiser, but his cousin Josie was an Air Force officer, and about the biggest bitch he had ever known. So the Navy it was: boot camp, followed by ‘A’ school, and then on to his first ship. Boot camp hadn’t been too bad and ‘A’ school had been a blast; they only spent a few hours a day training, and then were expected to “go study,” which of course meant doing whatever the hell you wanted. Danny had looked forward to getting to his first ship: based in Japan, USS Blue Ridge had a good reputation as a relaxed ‘party’ ship. Good port visits, a cushy lifestyle since it was the flagship of an Admiral, and the exotic Orient at his fingertips.
He first got to the ship late on an overcast February afternoon. It had felt like a week since he had left the states, and although it had been only 14 hours in real time, it had taken over a day and a half by the clock. The trip was exhausting, and Danny had felt grimy, like little lice were wriggling all over his body. The wind wasn’t strong, but it cut through the thick fabric of his Dress Blues like a steel pick. It wasn’t even five o’clock, but it was already beginning to get dark. Danny had stood on the pier, his seabag at his feet, shivering, just staring at his life for the next three years. The ship looked like a massive beached whale, huge harpoons sticking out of its head. Or perhaps an obese gray-painted porcupine. He had known that there wouldn’t be a lot of weapons—it was a far cry from a destroyer, after all—but Danny hadn’t realized just how many antennas would mar its clean lines. He had enough time to check in, get his rack, a meal, and a short night’s sleep before the ship got underway the next morning. Now, just four months later, Danny was in Hong Kong, the pearl of the East, and he couldn’t even relax or enjoy it properly.
The ship’s Bos’n had taken Danny aside that first full day, right after the hustle and organized chaos of leaving port. Danny hadn’t had any duties for the evolution—being brand-new gave him some measure of slacking-off time—and had been pointed to a quiet corner on the oh-three level where he could watch the land drift slowly away. Sailors were starting to disappear from their ‘sea and anchor detail’ positions when a man with a craggy face came up the ladderwell. He smelled like stale cigarettes and coffee. The Bos’n gave Danny a heavy-handed clap on the shoulder and Danny winced, but as the ship leaned suddenly, catching the first full wave of the trip, the old sailor’s hand turned from a painful shock to a welcome anchor.
“Wanted to welcome you aboard and make sure you know the way things are ‘round here. That way when you screw up, I can punish you with a clear conscience.” His voice was anything other than welcoming. Despite his southern drawl, which should have made him sound warm and friendly, the Bos’n’s voice was hard-edged, flinty.
“There are only two things the Navy won’t tolerate: drugs and faggotry. But I’ll tell you now, that bein’ stupid should be put on the list. Be on time, work hard, and don’t go rapin’ none of them native women.” Danny couldn’t figure out how to respond, but luckily the old guy just kept going.
“And wrap your pecker. You won’t go to mast for breakin’ that rule, but you’ll sure as hell regret it.” And with that, a curt nod, and one more stout clap on the shoulder, the salty sailor was gone, hatch clanging behind him.
After that warning, it hadn’t taken Danny long to discover that the pornos had it all wrong. Navy boys didn’t start fucking each other as soon as they got out to sea, hot steamy sex in the engine room or on the main deck under the stars. Quite the opposite, in fact. In passing, he had heard stories about things that had been done to guys who had been suspected of being gay, on this ship and on other ones. One guy in his berthing had bragged about a fag he had helped give a brillo bath. Most guys told stories about beating the shit out of fags, or wishing they had. So Danny had learned quickly to be very careful.
Perhaps the worst part was that he was good at it. Danny was handsome, but not a pretty-boy, and he could talk a good talk. He could brag about his dick size and his “ex-girlfriend” back home. He said her name was Jackie, that he had broken up with her right before he joined the navy; Danny was really talking about John, but changing the pronoun worked well, and then he didn’t have to remember an intricate lie. Providence had also given him a little help. Someone had started a rumor about Danny making it with one of the chicks who worked in CIC, which helped establish his place as the perfect mid-western, all-American white boy. He suspected that the petite blonde in question had started the rumor. With a ‘hot babe’ like her chasing him around and spreading rumors about varied sexual exploits, Danny had a safety net better than anything he could have created on his own.
He also made sure to cultivate friends who would help with his smoke screen. Looking at them as they walked down the streets of Hong Kong, he couldn’t help but to miss his friends at home. He had traded a bunch of wanna-be queens for a pack of rednecks; they were nice guys underneath it all, but rednecks nonetheless. Kevin was short and exceptionally lean, sporting an ‘everyone else can eat shit’ attitude. Bill loved wearing his backpack in every foreign port because it had a huge Confederate flag embroidered on it. Mike was the quietest of the three, but his vocabulary consisted primarily of cuss words. Bill turned and looked at Danny.
“You’re the only one who hasn’t been to this great city before – whatcha wanna do?” In gawking at the live-chicken street-fair, apparently Danny had missed a heated debate on what to do next.
“I’d like to get some jade. I’ve heard it’s pretty cheap here.” In his mind, Danny substituted “cheap” with “cheep” and got a great amount of satisfaction out of it, but it wasn’t a joke these guys would appreciate.
The four of them turned around to walk back to the public transportation depot, Kevin complaining without malice because he had wanted to go to some museum. Danny wished he had been listening to the earlier argument; a museum trip might have been nice. But it was too late for changing his mind, and the four of them ended up spending hours at the jade market, haggling over trinkets to send home as birthday and Christmas presents. Never too early to plan for Christmas when you’re in the navy. It was hot and humid, with a constant haze of fine light-brown dust that stuck to every drop of sweat. Danny could feel the dust gathering in the pores of his skin, along his hairline, and under his fingernails. They decided to have a late lunch at a Thai restaurant overlooking the water. It was a relief to finally find a cool spot to sit and have a beer, a welcome light breeze coming from the shore.
No sooner had they gotten their first beers than a certain blonde female from the ship showed up with her friends. At the sound of her voice, Danny’s head jerked around, his body suffused with horror. He should have known she would find them somehow; she wanted to make her rumor reality. The worst of it was, he couldn’t even remember her fucking name. The trio of giggling girls finally found an empty table across the restaurant.
“I can’t believe you fucked her, dude.”
“Fuck man, I didn’t know she was a complete fucking hoe-bag when I first got here.”
“It’s alright, man. I fucked her my first week onboard too.”
Finally, Mike changed the topic. “So, what are we gonna to do tonight?”
“Drink!” “Drink!”
“Nah man, we’ve gotta take Danny out to see the real sights of the city.” The other two enthusiastically toasted Bill’s suggestion, and Danny was left to wonder what the hell he was in for. Perhaps a strip club? Roll with the punches, Danny, just roll with the punches. Don’t seem worried, just pretend to be happy. Don’t worry be happy. The tune floated into his mind before he had a chance to stop it; now he was stuck with it wallowing around in his head for hours.
There was no hurry to leave their beers, and so the late lunch turned into dinner and several more mugs; the night sky was already showing a few stars when the four of them headed out.
“So what are we doing, anyway?” Danny couldn’t help but ask.
“Karaoke, man. Best karaoke around.” Sweet. He could sing badly and drink; hopefully the other three guys didn’t wail too terribly. If they did, he’d just drink more. They picked up two bottles of Jack Daniels on the way. What was the saying? Liquor before beer never fear, beer before liquor never sicker. Shit.
There was quite a bit of wandering around, looking for exactly the right karaoke place. From the talk, Danny had finally figured out that it was karaoke-slash-strip club, or something along those lines. Finally they found it, leaving the neon-lit main drag for a more sedate back street. It was a tall narrow building, nine stories high against the four-story buildings around. Short compared to the monolithic glass-filled high-rises along the main drag, though. The four young men squeezed into a tiny elevator, and by the time it had dragged them up one floor, groaning, Danny realized that his arm was pressed against pictures of naked Asian women, legs wide open, in an amazing variety of poses. In fact, the entire interior of the elevator was covered with 3x5 pictures of naked women in vulnerable positions. Except the top of the elevator, which had a mirror. Danny, his stomach churning, didn’t know where to look.
With a dull ding, the elevator doors opened on the seventh floor. There was a large crowd of Chinese businessmen, coats unbuttoned, sitting around a table singing a raucous song. One of them was standing, karaoke words in character against a blue backscreen and a microphone in his hand. They sounded like cats fighting on the back porch, thought Danny. Bill went to the main desk, and within a few moments the sailors were escorted to one of the many private karaoke rooms lining the nearby hallway, most filled with men singing. The doors were shut, but sounds of singing in Chinese could be faintly heard in the hallway. Each door had an eye-level window from which an observer could easily survey the entire room at a glance. The hallway was filled with larger versions of the pictures from the elevator.
The room the boys were given was larger than most, and they quickly got comfortable. Three sides of the room were lined by low maroon booth-like seats, with a round fake wood coffee table in the middle and a large screen on the same wall as the door. It smelled like salt and pea-green mildew. Danny opened the karaoke book lying on the table, but couldn’t find anything he knew; most of the book was in characters, but even the English section didn’t have any songs he had ever heard of. Not even any Elvis songs.
About the time Danny ascertained that the karaoke choices were crap, a Chinese man entered the room.
“You want girls, yes?” Two young women filed in, dressed in tight jeans, pretty blouses, and spiked high heels. One had tried to dye her hair blonde; the other sat next to Danny. Danny decided he needed a drink. Mike had already opened one of the bottles, so he took a swig. He took another one as Kevin cuddled up with the girl next to him.
Mike chose some song at random, and the karaoke machine started belting out the background music for an unknown ballad. The screen showed snapshots of couples holding hands while walking through the park, couples kissing at the beach as the sun set behind them. Straight couples, of course. Chinese couples. On the other side of the room, the dyed-blonde had decided that she liked Bill quite a bit. Danny looked at the screen. A couple was holding hands walking down a downtown city sidewalk. Danny realized this might not be just a strip club.
“Have you had an Asian chick yet, man?” It was Kevin. He had one arm around the girl between them, the other arm up her frilly blue blouse. She was giggling.
“Back in the states, yeah.” Danny took another sip from the bottle.
“Nah man, he’s talking about a real Asian chick, an Oriental — one from here.” Bill didn’t wait for a response, just started nuzzling the bleach-blonde’s neck, quickly moving up for a deep kiss. Mike chose another song at random. Same type of music, different tune. This one just had close-up pictures of people smiling.
“Oh my god, man, you wouldn’t believe how tight her pussy is.” Kevin had her pants unbuttoned. She was still giggling, now fiddling with his hair in a slightly abstract manner. “Here man, check this out.” Kevin took his hand out of her pants.
“Nah, it’s OK.”
“No man, you’ve gotta feel how tight she is.” Kevin turned to the girl. “You like Danny, too, right?” At his gesture, the girl turned and smiled at Danny. “Give him a kiss to show how much you like him, ok?”
So she kissed him. Her teeth weren’t the best; as she pulled away, Danny could smell the ass-smell of early tooth rot. She giggled.
“C’mon, man, feel how tight her pussy is.” Danny did, then had another swig of JD, trying to ignore the smell on his fingers. Mike chose another song from the karaoke machine, and then scooted over to make room for Bill and the blonde. Pretty soon the sounds of grunting punctuated yet another strange tune, and Danny wished with all his might that he wasn’t there. His vision was beginning to get fuzzy, and all of the random pictures accompanying the song looked the same. After a few songs that flowed seamlessly together, Kevin gave his arm a hard nudge.
“You want firsts with her? First Oriental and all?” Kevin’s question was in earnest; he really wanted Danny to fuck this girl, right here on the plasticy vinyl seat, in front of them all.
“Nah man, it’s all good. I didn’t even bring a condom with me or anything.”
“No prob. I brought extras.”
The latest song came to an end. In the silence the condom sat in front of him, staring up at him with its shiny blue wrapper. Mike chose a new song, this one more upbeat, kind of a Chinese version of a gospel song.
“It’s all right, man, it’s for a good cause. You’re working your way through college, right honey?” She nodded. “Go ahead and be nice to Danny now. It’s his first time.”
Her eyebrows rose. “First time?” she queried.
Kevin nodded. “First time.” The girl giggled in response.
She turned to Danny and started to unbuckle his belt, sliding her cool fingers under his boxers. He closed his eyes as she put her mouth around his flaccid cock, moist, warm and sure. Danny wished again he were somewhere else. With someone else. With ‘Jackie,’ perhaps; John could give really good blowjobs. With the sounds of male grunting, punctuated only occasionally by faked-female-orgasm moans, Danny could almost imagine a completely different scenario; a combo of any of those fun pornos about spunky navy boys. About then, Bill finished up with a final shudder. Danny could feel himself get hard. The girl stopped, and he opened his eyes. She was looking at him.
“Fuck me now?” she said. Danny looked around; Kevin gave him a thumbs-up, then looked away, giving Danny some ‘privacy.’
Impotent in the face of pressure but hard in body, Danny put the condom on as the girl shimmied out of her jeans. He rolled her onto her back and entered her in one swift motion. Better to get this over with sooner rather than later. Push. I wish I wasn’t here. Push. Should’ve pretended I was really really religious or something. Push. Off to the side, there was a moan from Mike. Push. Bill must’ve handed the blonde off to Mike. Push. The girl gave a fake high-pitch whimper of enjoyment. Push. At least she isn’t giggling. Push. Why did I do this to myself? Push. The smell of cum and sweat, of sweaty plastic. Push. I wonder how many people have fucked on this bench. Push. I hate the navy. Push. I hate my job. Push. I hate hiding. Push. God damn it. Push. Fuck. Push.
He finished, and as he pulled himself out, the girl giggled.
Danny grabbed another swig of whisky before he zipped up. Glancing toward the door, he saw a face looking through the window. It was pushed aside and another pretty face took its place. Danny felt sick and woozy.
“I’m going to go find a bathroom.” No one was paying attention; Mike was hot and heavy with the fake blonde, Kevin was enjoying a blowjob of his own, and Bill looked like he might be passed out. The second bottle of liquor had been opened sometime during the gospel song, and now there was another ballad playing. The song finished, and it was quiet as Danny walked out the door.
Three girls were standing outside. One of them giggled as he came out. “Big boy.”
“Bathroom?” he asked, ignoring the giggle.
One of them led him to a small bathroom. He locked the door behind him and promptly threw up in the sink. He kept retching, scenes from moments before on quick-time replay in his head, retching until blood flecked the bile he was puking forth, retching until his throat was raw and sore. You’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do, Danny, he told himself. Just roll with the punches. He washed his mouth out and took a piss.
The worst of his inebriation had gone with the puke, but Danny plodded down the hallway, in no hurry to get back to the karaoke room. A slim figure was coming down the hall toward him, silhouetted against backlight. When she got close, Danny realized with a shock that it was the girl with whom he’d just had sex. His now-empty stomach gurgled. She was just about to pass him without even looking up when he stopped her.
“What’s your name?” The question was out of his mouth before he had really thought about it.
“Baby.” Her voice was flat, a flatness resulting from more than just accent. She didn’t look at his face, her attention focused at a spot on the far wall.
“Baby?”
“Yes. I youngest. Youngest here.”
How young was she? Danny didn’t want to think about it.
“Are you really working your way through college?” Baby nodded. “What are you studying?” She shrugged. Her hair was stringy, flat and dry, the antithesis of stereotypically silky Asian locks. Faint blue light reflected off her cheekbones. Her eyes were blank, passive, her face emaciated. On impulse, Danny grabbed her hands.
“You’ll be OK, right?” He hunched over to look her in the eyes, but she still wouldn’t make eye contact. He was sure that there was a person in there somewhere, buried under the whore. Her eyes showed not even a flicker of emotion. Danny wondered how long she had been here.
The girl pulled her hands away from him and scratched her neck abstractedly. Danny rubbed his arms, a sudden chill. The girl turned and resumed her journey down the hall. There was no hint of any sort of sexy roll in her hips; from behind she was nearly androgynous. The hallway smelled of old grease, tobacco, and disease. As he scratched his neck, Danny’s hand shook; over the course of the day, his fingernails had gathered dark grime under them, and in the violet-blue light it looked like blood. From his pocket, he pulled out his tiny red Swiss Army knife, with its all-purpose tool assortment. He sat for a minute in the hallway, digging under his fingernails, trying to clean away the grime. His nails wouldn’t come completely clean, so Danny gave it up for the moment. He would have to get back to the ship to finish the job. He stood, feeling the eyes of the pictures on the wall watching.
Danny turned back toward the door he knew he needed to go through. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scents of decay, feeling them swirl into his lungs, into his veins, before he expelled them with force.
Time to get back to the boys.
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