Limits of Justice, The by Wilson John Morgan

Author:Wilson, John Morgan [Wilson, John Morgan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Gay & Lesbian
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2008-11-01T06:00:00+00:00

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Templeton was chatting up the generic soap opera hunk when I found her again, and it seemed they’d already exchanged phone numbers. He made a polite exit after she introduced me, and she wanted to know what I’d been up to in the interim. Before I could tell her, the lights dimmed and came back up several times, and the partygoers began to stir, grabbing jackets and handbags and heading for the corridor that led into the cavernous concert hall.

As we followed other VIPs to a roped-off section near the stage, I saw Edward T. Felton, Jr., nodding with an economical smile in the direction of Dr. Miller, who took a seat at the far end of the row beside Freddie Fuentes. Five or ten minutes later, the lights went down, and Mandeville Slayton was announced with great fanfare. Then he was descending a staircase from stage heaven as the spotlight came up and found him, crooning a song that immediately had women all over the arena shrieking. He was in my range heightwise, right around six feet, but he had a good hundred pounds or more on me, packed into a baby-blue jumpsuit of satin or silk, with gold neck chains and bracelets for accent, and a natural Afro cropped close to his massive head. I wouldn’t have called him a particularly good-looking man, but he had a wide smile and beautiful, moony eyes, and he carried his bulk with a certain style and grace that had just a touch of effeminacy in it. He also had quite a way with a song, from the dramatic higher registers that drove the audience wild to the intimate, breathy moments that had the ladies swooning—including, to my astonishment, Templeton. Just as Elvis had tossed scarves from the stage, Slayton had his own gimmick: One by one, he threw dozens of long-stemmed white roses into the crowd, and when the Tower of Love had finished his performance and returned for two encores, Templeton had two of the roses pressed against her chest, and cheeks that were wet with tears.

I asked her if she was OK to drive and she nodded numbly, staring at the empty stage as if she’d just seen the second coming.

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