Saul's Book by Paul T. Rogers

Author:Paul T. Rogers [Rogers, Paul T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, General, Male prostitutes, Gay Men
ISBN: 9781563334627
Google: sLONPwAACAAJ
Publisher: Masquerade Books, Incorporated
Published: 1996-08-31T14:00:00+00:00

From the moment Saul said, “Sit down, Sinbad, I want to talk to you,” I knew that something was very wrong. There was an air of solemnity in the room which I sensed as soon as I opened the door. He was sitting by the window in his favorite chair, a Salvation Army recliner. I put down my shopping bag overflowing with the fruits of a few random purchases and some serious shoplifting and awaited disaster.

Saul used to sit by the hour ensconced in his shabby throne, observing the ebb and flow of life passing eleven floors below the window. He sat for hours a day, “watching TV,” meditating on the peculiarities of perfect strangers.

“Mmmph. Infinitely more rewarding than TV, my boy, all the melodrama of soap opera in the flesh, on a public channel, as it were. No commercials. Sit, observe, learn about the world around you.”

Usually upon my return he would share his insights concerning a couple who lived directly across from us. The woman was a virago, the man a battered husband, the marriage tempestuous, and Saul, an ever-appreciative audience. Or he might advise me of his amazing discovery that the scholarly-looking mole who incessantly scurried to and from the public library burdened with bundles of books, was a fence.

“A fence? Now you’re making it up!” Impossible, I insisted. Was no one free from the taint of venality? Were all destined to evil merely because they had the misfortune to be viewed through the wrong end of a spyglass which foreshortened and distorted the most simple and natural phenomena? Was not Saul himself peering at virtue through the haze of his own abhorrence of banality? He was clearly affronted.

“Making it up? Asshole! Pollyanna! Pelasgian! I do not interpret, I catalogue. Haven’t I taught you a fucking thing? There,”— indicating with a sweep the broad view of the street—”… the foibles are all there, as old as Paradise, as endemic as original sin. Nothing is hidden from you, nothing, dear heart: the infinite temptations and the delicious weaknesses of mankind, bless ‘em all, I say. Right before your eyes and you can’t see it.” He shakes his head dolefully while admonishing me with pointed finger. “It’s clear, you’ll never amount to anything. You simply refuse to remember the essential tenet of moral theology, to wit: always judge a book by its cover. Step right up, my boy. See the wonder of the ages, the mighty Egress, one thin dime. It’s all there right there before you too.” He sulks.

He has me hooked and he knows it.

“All of which makes our mousy friend a fence, right? Is that what you’re saying, because if you are, then you’ve lost me completely. What am I supposed to see, for Chrissakes, a bookworm?”

“No indeed, not for a moment.” I’m gaffed and his interest perks up immediately.

“What you should see is a shady character.”

“Explain.” He loves it. Who am I do deprive him of his pleasures?

“Item: no gainful means of employment.”

I’m hopelessly entangled for the moment in the coils of his cynicism, so I might as well play straight man.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.