******************************************
Part Two: The Opening of the Doors
******************************************
They had been lying in bed together, the last night before Ken left for
Cairo.
'Egypt isn't San Francisco, Ken,' John had observed. 'And it
isn't Los Angeles. Hell, it isn't even Salt Lake City.'
'No kidding. What's your point, John?'
'I'm saying that life in Egypt can be problematic for men of our...
varied sexual tastes.'
'Perverts, you mean?' Ken laughed. 'They have sex in Egypt,
John. Even gay sex. I checked.'
'They probably have gay sex in Antarctica, Ken. The point is, in
some places, especially Islamic countries, gay sex can be highly
dangerous.'
'It's not illegal in Egypt,' Ken pointed out.
'Not strictly illegal, no. But people have a charming habit of
interpreting the law to fit their own prejudices. I checked.'
'I know. You try and pick up a man, and you're charged with
prostitution. Or obscenity. Or littering. That doesn't only
happen in Islamic countries. It happened right here in America,
not so long ago. Maybe it still does.'
'When I was a teenager,' said John. 'I was outside a gay bar, in
Dallas. I was too scared to go inside. I'd never had sex
with a man, only once, with a girl in the back seat of a car, like most
other teenage boys. But I knew I wanted to try it. With a man, I
mean. The police raided the joint, and I was hauled in, just for
being outside on the street at the time. I told them it was an
accident, that I didn't know it was a gay bar, and they let me
go. But the cop who arrested me warned me. He said he knew
I was there out of curiosity. He told me, if I had sex with a
man, it would warp me for life.'
'Now that's true,' said Ken, with a laugh.
'He told me, if I wanted a normal, happy life, I should forget about my
interest in perversions. Get a girlfriend, he told me. That
would straighten me out.'
'Is that what you're telling me to do, John? Because it sounds
really warped coming from you, especially considering what you're doing
with your hands right now.'
'Want me to stop what I'm doing?' asked John.
'Fuck, no,' said Ken.
He thought about that conversation now. He hadn't been so alone
for several years, as he was now. John had been there, all day,
every day, and at least one night a week. If he needed more sex
than John could provide, he picked someone up. But, besides a
regular sex life, John had given him security and affection. Now,
he had severed those ties -- if not completely, to a rather frightening
degree. They were ties which had not been unwelcome, he
thought. That was one of the best relationships in my life, and I
have ended it.
His limo pulled up in front of the hotel. Another limo was also
arriving, along with an entire wedding party. The bride and groom
got out of their own limo, as he was leaving his. The wedding
party formed out the front of the Grand Hyatt Cairo, and were soon
surrounded by the usual noisy group of drummers and belly dancers that
accompanied the bride and groom to their reception. The Zaffa.
Ken was so obviously not a relative on either side of the family.
He was not Egyptian, or anything but an American, but it didn't seem to
matter. He was caught up in the celebration.
'May I come to the reception?' he asked, in Arabic, of someone who
looked as if she were in authority. The bride's mother, probably.
'Of course,' she answered, politely.
The Zaffa took its time, wending its way to the reception hall.
Someone handed Ken a glass of rose sherbet, and he politely joined in
the toast to the health of the bride and groom. The newly married
couple switched their wedding rings from their right index fingers to
their left index fingers, and the party began.
The families were obviously wealthy, and wedding parties were an
important display of wealth, so the singers and belly dancers were
among the best. One of them, especially. She had dangerous
curves, dark eyes lined with kohl, and spent time exchanging lascivious
glances with Ken. He nodded and smiled, and the man next to him
gave him a nudge.
'I can see it isn't only the groom who will be happy tonight,' the
other man said.
Ken laughed. 'She has strong stomach muscles,' he said. 'I
can tell from here.'
'Good for bearing children,' the other man pointed out.
'Wait!' said Ken. 'Who said anything about children? I just
smiled at her. That doesn't mean I'm marrying her.'
The man laughed. 'Ha! Scared you, did I? Don't
worry. Tahhiyya isn't the marrying kind, either.' He ambled
off, chuckling to himself.
Good, thought Ken. A one night stand is just what I need.
********************
Michael Starsky showed up at his hotel room door, just as his overnight
guest was leaving.
'Tahhiyya, allow me to introduce Michael Starsky,' said Ken.
The lady smiled sweetly, and offered her hand. Michael Starsky
actually kissed it. 'That was one of Egypt's best known dancers,'
he said, as he watched her walk away down the hall.
'I know,' said Ken. 'She has excellent muscle tone.'
Michael Starsky looked at him with a good deal more respect than he had
the day before. 'Are you about to become husband number twelve?'
he asked.
Ken choked on his morning coffee. 'Husband number what?' he
asked.
'The lady has been married eleven times.'
'Holy... I was informed she wasn't the marrying kind.'
It was Mr. Starsky's turn to choke. 'You were misinformed,' he
said.
'Someone having a little joke with me,' said Ken.
'Well, why not marry her?' asked Mr. Starsky. 'It might be
fun for a time, goodness knows.'
'No. I've tried marriage, and I didn't like it.'
'The lady has also tried marriage, and she is clearly of the different
opinion.'
'Serial polygamy,' said Ken. 'Why not be honest, and say you want
a harem?'
But Ken thought about it as they drove to Luxor in the chauffeured
limousine provided by the hotel. Did the dancer's lifestyle
indicate deep cynicism, or an unfailing innocence? Was she
treating marriage as an endless joke, or did she truly hope that each
new relationship would be The One?
And he wondered about himself. He still wanted that lifelong
relationship, and yet, at the same time, he knew he wasn't meant for
marriage. Marriage with Vanessa had been one long battle, almost
from the beginning. Would it be any different with a man?
Men weren't that much easier to get along with, whatever Henry Higgins
might say.
'I've been doing my research,' said Michael Starsky.
'Oh, yes?'
'I've been looking up the family chronicles, and all the mentions of
the relationship between our families. I knew about it, as I
said. I read some of the chronicles before, but I didn't pay as
much attention as this time. Your grandfather knew more than I,
but we didn't discuss it much. It was a settled thing, in our
case. But since you were so curious about the matter, I went to
some trouble.'
'Well, thank you. That was kind of you.'
'Not at all. It's important to me, as well as to you. There
is a partnership between our families. But a curious one.'
'How so?' asked Ken.
'I'm not sure how it started, or why,' said Mr. Starsky. He
opened a large briefcase, and took out a sheaf of photocopied pages.
Ken glanced at them, and smiled, wryly. They were in Hebrew, of
course.
'I'm working on a translation,' said Michael Starsky. 'It's
difficult, because the older writing is faded, and some of the passages
are in a sort of code, I think. But the first reference I can
find to the Hutchinson family goes back to the sixteenth century, or so
I believe. One of my ancestors, David Starsky, left a letter for
his son. The letter was preserved, and much later, the words were
copied into the chronicle. This David Starsky commands his son,
and all his descendants, to remember the name of Kenneth Hutchinson in
their prayers.'
'What?' asked Kenneth Hutchinson, rather startled.
'The prayers refer to one of your ancestors, it is clear. The
letter was written in the sixteenth century, remember?'
'Yes. Yes of course,' said Ken. He looked out the limo
window, unto the dry, desert landscape of Egypt, and felt a strange
chill. Someone just walked over my grave, he thought. 'Did
the letter explain why he asked his son to do this?'
'No, at least not in the portions of the letter which were
recorded. There may well have been more of the letter which
was not preserved. And there were other mysteries about the man.
David Starsky is mentioned an unusual number of times in the
chronicles. They say he consorted with ghosts, and spirits.'
'I remember reading that the Jews were often accused of being
magicians, because their written language was mysterious to the peoples
around them, and because they usually kept themselves apart from non
Jews.'
'Yes, that's true,' said Michael Starsky. 'But the interesting
thing is, David Starsky was accused of being a magician by his fellow
Jews. I think he disappeared at one point, perhaps because his
reputation endangered him. The chronicle breaks off there, so I'm
not certain.'
'That... that is too bad. I wonder if the rest of the chronicle
is hidden away somewhere? Or was it destroyed? Interesting.'
'Yes. But we shall likely never know the truth. Who knows
the entire depths of the human heart? People do things for the
oddest reasons, and often don't even remember their reasons themselves.'
'Yes,' said Ken. 'We edit our own memories, in our minds.
Take my childhood in this place.' He waved, to indicate the town
of Luxor, through which they were passing. 'I have the strangest
memories of the times I spent here as a child. There are things I
remember happening, that now I know could not have happened.'
'How is that, please?' asked Michael Starsky.
'Well, look around you,' said Ken. 'There are modern buildings,
mixed with the ancient ones. In my memories of Luxor, they didn't
exist. And the way the people dress. It's all wrong.'
'Children often get confused,' said Michael Starsky. 'Perhaps you
are mixing up Luxor with another place. Another village, perhaps?'
'Perhaps,' Ken agreed. 'But I remember the house.'
The limo stopped at the gates to his grandfather's house. Now it
was his own house. He had never owned a house before, and now he
owned several. This was the only house he remembered living in,
though. The others he had just passed through, on his way to
somewhere else. This house he had lived in. He felt his
life in the house, as he turned the key in the lock, and the door swung
open, to welcome him in. The house called to him, from its very
depths.
Ken Hutchinson, you are mine.
***************
Luxor was composed of three areas -- the city of Luxor proper, on the
east bank of the Nile; the town of Karnak to the north; and Thebes, on
the west bank. Many years ago, Lawrence Hutchinson had
bought a house on the west bank, in a tiny village near the temple of
Hatshepsut. As was that great monument, it was built up against a
cliff. Almost, at times, it seemed to disappear into the natural
stone. The original house itself was very old, and Lawrence
Hutchinson had been restoring the older parts of the building ever
since. At the same time, he had also been adding to them.
As with most modern buildings in Luxor, the newer architecture blended
in with the old. The adobe brick merged with the cliffs behind
the house, and the ground beneath it. The house was styled with
domes, rounded doors and windows, and stairways that mimicked the steps
of the pyramids. The gardens were an oasis, filled with palm
trees, and other local plants.
The interior was an eclectic mix of his grandfather's tastes, and those
of his most beloved Leila. Upholstered European-style furniture,
and spare Egyptian styles that might have been found in the tomb of a
pharoah. Lawrence Hutchinson's collection of modern American
paintings, and the local pottery, some of it built by Leila
herself. A grand salon, with a dozen dazzling chandeliers soaring
over a myriad of couches and love seats, and small, peaceful sitting
nooks, with one chaise longue, and a side table.
The modern parts of the house had modern plumbing and cooking
facilities. His grandfather always said that he could use
Egyptian toilets if he had to, but in his own home, he preferred to sit
down instead of squatting on his heels above a hole in the floor. Ken
tended to agree. The electricity came from a generator, hidden in
the cliffs, so there were no electrical lines spoiling the landscape.
He took several steps into the house, and all these technical
considerations tore, and fell apart like wet paper. The real
house was not adobe walls, and toilet seats. Nor was it
chandeliers, and wall hangings. It was arches. Arch after
arch, leading him further and further into its shadowed rooms. It
was deep silence, and then voices, far off in the distance. Laughter
and arguments, and endearments. It was darkness, and then light.
Candles and hearth fires. It was dust. Dry, choking dust,
and then water. Cool water drawn up from a deep well, and held
out to him by a beloved hand. It was....
'Mr. Hutchinson? Mr. Hutchinson?'
He came back to himself, as if from a great distance. It felt
like dragging himself away from a warm bed, and loving arms, to go out
into the cold winter night, alone.
'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I didn't hear what you were asking me.'
'Shall I put your luggage in the master bedroom, sir?'
Ah, yes. The housekeeper. She looked a little concerned
about his health, and so he smiled politely, and nodded, and said,
'Aiwa -- yes, of course. That will be fine. Thank you --
shukran.' He could not for the life of him remember her name, but
she smiled, and led the servants to his new bedroom.
'Are you well, Kenneth Hutchinson?' asked Michael Starsky.
'I think so,' he answered. 'This house holds a lot of memories
for me.'
'Of course. I am negligent and forgetful to an unforgivable
degree. You are still in mourning for your grandfather. It
must be difficult to come back here.'
Ken Hutchinson smiled, kindly. 'You are not negligent at all,' he
said. 'You have been very kind and helpful. Please.
Make yourself at home. Mi casa es su casa. My home is your
home. Come with me. There are several guest bedrooms in
this wing. Choose whichever room you like. They all have
spectacular views, don't they?'
Michael Starsky agreed that yes, indeed all the views were quite
spectacular, and that it was very difficult to choose which one of the
most beautiful rooms he was offered, but that on the whole, he thought
he would take this one, if the master of the house did not
object. They chatted for a few moments about the good points of
this room over the other rooms, about the benefits of having sunlight
in the morning rather than in the afternoon, and about the view of the
Valley of the Kings versus that of the Valley of the Queens. They
both agreed that it was time for a wash, and a rest, now that the heat
of the afternoon was on them.
Ken found his own room, had a quick wash in cool water, lay down upon
his bed, and closed his eyes.
I am a stranger in a strange land, he thought. Or have I come
home, at last? What just happened? Whose voice was that,
calling to me? If they were in fact calling to me. Was it a
memory from my childhood? Or not a memory or not a dream at all,
but merely an accident of sound waves, echoing around the cliffs?
It was someone else's life, and not at all my own, that I overheard.
The interior walls of the house were, like the exterior walls, bare
adobe. Adobe made from the local clay mixed with sand. It
changed in tone, according to the light. At the moment, the walls
appeared pale beige. The high, glassless windows were covered
with long, white net curtains. There was a wide arched doorway,
leading out to a patio, and this was also hung with white curtains,
usually drawn back. For now, they were closed, but one of the
curtains moved, and swayed, as if in a breeze. This land was not
known for its stray breezes, especially in the late afternoon.
Ken sat up. The curtain moved again, and a flickering shadow
danced over the bare beige wall. He thought he heard footsteps,
and a voice, calling, calling. Something touched his face --
fingers, or tears.
He got down off the bed, and walked to the patio doorway. There
was no breeze. The curtains were hanging perfectly still.
No light, and no shadows flickered on the adobe walls. He went
out onto the patio, and looked off to the west. The rays of the
sun reached down towards the earth, bestowing its blessings upon all
men, without discrimination. Re-Horakhty. Re, Horus of the
horizon, and the creator of the world. His greatest friend and
ally is Ma'at. Order and truth.
I was dreaming, thought Ken. I fell asleep, and dreamt, and that
is all.
He found the housekeeper overseeing preparations for dinner.
'Oh, Mr. Hutchinson, sir. I thought you were asleep. Is
there anything I can do for you?'
'Yes, please tell me where my grandfather kept the plans for the
house? He has been doing renovations here for years, and he
wished me to keep them up.'
'Certainly, sir,' she said, using the Western style of address, which
his grandfather had much preferred. She led him to the library, a
vast storehouse of books in many languages, most of which Ken
Hutchinson couldn't read. He knew Arabic fairly well, of
course. And his grandfather had insisted that he learn Egyptian
hieroglyphics. Ken hadn't protested that. Hieroglyphics
were fun to read, and his grandfather was a good teacher.
The house plans were locked away in a large safe, along with old
letters, and other things that one would not consider worth hiding in a
strong box that could survive an earthquake.
Michael Starsky found him in the library several hours later, studying
the house plans. He jumped at the hand on his shoulder.
'No, no. I'm sorry,' said Ken Hutchinson, over Michael Starsky's
apologies. 'I didn't intend to be in here so long. But did
you know my grandfather was crazy, Mr. Starsky? I'm sorry to have
to say it, but he was. Look at these plans. It will take a
lifetime to do all this. Was he building his own pyramid, do you
think?'
'He did indeed love this house.'
'I know that, but at times I think he was obsessed with it.'
I don't want to become obsessed as well, thought Ken. At times,
in these notes, my grandfather writes as if the house were alive.
As though it will reward good behaviour, and punish the bad. As
though the house has needs, and loves, and hatreds. As though it
can think.
'Dinner will be served in a few moments, sir,' said the housekeeper,
from the doorway of the library. 'Would you like it served in the
dining room?'
'No, not at all,' said Ken. 'There is a small sitting room that
is much more comfortable. And if you would join us, I would
appreciate it.'
The housekeeper nodded, and agreed.
What I need is a good meal, and a good night's sleep, thought
Ken. In the morning, I will explore this house, and banish all
fantasies from my mind. I will do as my grandfather wished, and
no more than that. This house is just adobe walls, and nothing
more.
**************
The morning sun turned the adobe walls to a rosy pink. The house
was obviously feeling more cheerful this morning than he was, thought
Ken. His sleep had been restless, interrupted by strange
dreams. He couldn't remember the dreams now, only that they had
been disturbing.
Michael Starsky was holed up in the library, translating the Starsky
family chronicles from Hebrew into Arabic, and thence into
English. 'If you are very certain you wish to read them,' he
said. 'One would think they would be boring to outsiders.'
'No. Not boring at all,' said Ken. 'I assure you I am
waiting for your translation with bated breath.'
'I understand that means you are holding your breath until I am
finished,' said Michael Starsky, solemnly. 'I hope the results
are worth the trouble.'
Worth the trouble, thought Ken, as he set off toward the older sections
of the house, some time later. Someone thought recording the
history of your family and their relationship with my family to be
worth the trouble. I wonder why it was necessary, though?
He was armed with detailed houseplans, a flashlight, and a bottle of
water, to explore the entire property, and banish the ghosts -- in
which he didn't believe at all, he kept assuring himself. The
older parts of the house had not been lived in for an age, it
seemed. Rooms that rambled around a courtyard, and made side
excursions into the cliffs. Rooms like caves, carved out of the
solid rock. His grandfather had done a lot of restoration since
the last time Ken had visited here. In his childhood, this wing
had been blocked off, protected by a locked gate. He had sneaked
in one day, to explore, and spent the next week washing dishes for the
entire archaeological team. Now it was open to the public, so to
speak.
An entire extended family must have lived here once, thought Ken.
He wondered if there had been fortified walls protecting the
inhabitants. His grandfather would have excavated the remains, if
there had been. Perhaps there was something about it in his
notes. Ken looked down at the house plans. Just around that
corner, was a stairwell, going up. Going up to what? Ken
turned the corner. He was now in one of the most cave-like parts
of the building. The stairwell was dark, and he turned on his
flashlight. The walls were carved from the cliffs themselves, and
so were the steps -- and there were many of them. The stairwell wound
its way, up and up. Ken almost thought of turning back, when at
last he saw daylight, just above him.
The stairwell opened onto some sort of lookout. His grandfather
had added new ironwork railings, as a safety measure. The view
from here was spectacular. It was also very odd.
The house should be directly below him, but most of it seemed to have
disappeared. The newer parts could not be seen at all. He could
see nothing of the road out front of the house, and the village beyond
was smaller than it had been only yesterday. It must be a trick
of the perspective, he thought. The pyramids off in the middle
distance were eternal. But there should be tour buses on the
roads, this time of the morning. All Ken could see, was a train
of camels slowly wending its way to the town of Thebes. As for
the town of Thebes itself....
He felt dizzy, suddenly. Perhaps he had climbed the stairs too
quickly. Heights didn't normally bother him. He decided to
go back down, and turned for the stairwell.
A young man was standing in the doorway, smiling, and stretching out
his hand. 'Kenneth!' said the young stranger.
'Hutch.' He spoke Ken's boyhood nickname with an odd accent, but
an expression of surprised joy. He stepped out, into the sunlight, and
disappeared.
Right, thought Ken. Not conversant with local climate any
longer. Been away too long. Need to go lie down. He
started rather nervously through the stone doorway, but no bodies
appeared to block his way. He sighed in relief as he felt the
relative coolness of the stone cave revive him.
'Kenneth?' said the voice behind him. This time it was a sad cry,
almost one of despair, and he couldn't help but turn around to
look. The stranger from the stairwell now stood upon the lookout,
in the full sunlight. But he was no longer so young. His
face was tired and haggard, and his clothes were worn and dusty.
'Kenneth. Min fadlak....' he said.
Min fadlak? Please? Please what? Ken backed up, into the
darkened stairwell, and the man on the lookout cried out, in
agony. 'No! Wait! Don't go.' He ran towards
Ken, and disappeared once more.
Ken sat down upon the stone steps, until he stopped shaking. It
wasn't only the uncanny experience of seeing a ghost in broad daylight,
he thought. But there was the feeling of something very wrong.
Something he should fix.
Michael Starsky was still in the library, busily translating. He
looked up as Ken walked in. 'You look as though you've seen a
ghost,' he said.
'I have,' said Ken. 'He looked just like one of your grandsons,
before he disappeared.'
'Disappeared, did he? Sounds like one of my grandsons.
They're good at disappearing, when there are chores to be done.
But you sound serious. Did you really see a spirit?'
'Twice,' said Ken. 'The same spirit, I think, several minutes
apart. But, ghosts don't age, do they? I mean, they're
already dead, so they can't age. I need a drink, and I need to
sit down.' He sat down at the library table.
Michael Starsky excused himself for a minute, and came back into the
room with a bottle of brandy, and two glasses. 'It's a bit early
to drink,' he said. 'But you do look as if you need it, and I'll
keep you company. What happened?'
'I was exploring the old house. Someone appeared on the stairs,
then vanished. It made me a bit nervous, so I started back here,
but he showed up again. Older this time, but the same man, I'm
sure of it. And he knew me. He spoke my name.'
'You are sure this was not someone playing a joke on you?' asked
Michael Starsky.
'I'm sure. Who would play such a joke, and why? To frighten
me off from the house? There may be a reason someone might wish
to keep me away from here, I suppose. But it won't work. I don't
scare so easily. And I wasn't so much frightened, as
disturbed. The ghost knew me.'
'Ghosts do haunt people they know,' Michael Starsky pointed out.
'Yes. But he seemed to know me well, and I didn't know him.
Other than the fact he looked like one of your lazy grandsons, I
mean. He seemed upset that I didn't know him, though. And
ghosts don't age, do they?'
'I don't know,' said Michael Starsky. 'I've never seen a ghost.'
*****************
This is a mystery that needs solving, thought Ken, as he prepared for
bed. And I'm a detective. It may well be there is someone
playing a trick on me, for reasons of their own. I need to study
the house plans more thoroughly. Maybe there is some trap door,
up there on the lookout, and a workman discovered it, and thought it
would be fun to do a little haunting. Though why enact that
little tragic drama that makes no sense? What's wrong with
"Boo!"? In the meantime, I'm a grown man, and ghosts don't scare
me, even if they're real ghosts. As far as I know, no one has
ever been killed by a ghost. Live people kill each other every
day, and I've seen that with my own eyes.
He turned off the lights, leaving the room dark, illuminated only by
the moonlight, and stretched out on the bed, under a light cover.
The man had looked so sad, the second time, he thought. And I
seemed to have been the cause of his sorrow. "Please," he
said. "Don't go." But he was the one who disappeared.
And how can I stay with him? He's a ghost, and I'm alive.
The mosquito netting around the bed stirred, though there was no
breeze. It stirred again, then opened, as if by an invisible
hand. 'Who's there?' asked Ken.
'Only me,' said a voice, in Arabic. 'I have found you
again. It has been too long.'
A warm body, very un-spirit-like, pressed up against his own.
'Kenneth,' said the voice, drawing out the soft syllables of the name
that he had never really liked. 'Touch me. It has been too
long. Why can you not stay? It is so unfair.'
His ghostly visitor was most definitely a man, Ken discovered.
The man rained kisses down upon his face, and touched and stroked him
as if his flesh were some vast and wonderful treasure that had been
lost and now was found.
'I... I must say,' said Ken, in Arabic. 'That this is an unusual
situation for me. I don't often have to ask this of someone who
has their hand around my cock. But what is your name? If
you don't mind telling me?'
The other man gasped, and pulled his hand away. Ken caught at his
wrist, and held on tightly.
'I didn't say you had to stop,' he told his anonymous lover. 'I
didn't say I didn't like it. I only asked your name. You
know my name, but I don't know yours. It only seems fair, for us
to be on an equal level of acquaintance, don't you think?'
'You... you do not know my name?' asked his visitor. 'Oh.
Did I come here at the wrong time, again? I did not mean to do
such a thing.'
'Don't go,' said Ken. 'That's what you said to me, earlier.
I saw you, on the stairwell. You spoke my name.'
'Did I?' asked the spirit. 'I do not remember. It is all so
confusing. But we have been apart so long. Let me stay a
while. I promise not to touch you again. All I want is to
be near you.'
'Oh, you can touch me if you like,' said Ken. 'I like it
too. Just tell me your name, and you can touch me all you want.'
'My name,' said the strange man. 'You really do not know my
name. It is David. David Starsky.'
'David Starsky,' said Ken Hutchinson, slowly. 'David Starsky,' he
said again.
'Ah, so you do remember me,' said David Starsky.
'I remember the name. It was in the Starsky family
chronicle. Michael Starsky read them to me. Parts of them.'
'Michael Starsky? Ah, yes. You have told me of
him. So did your grandfather tell me of him.'
'You knew my grandfather?' asked Ken, eagerly.
'I know him, yes. You used to visit me with him, when you were a
little boy. We were friends, in those days. Do you not
remember me, even yet?'
'Remember?' Ken remembered dreams of a distant land, and a little
boy with blue eyes. His name had been David. 'Yes, I
remember,' he admitted, at last. 'But I thought it all a dream,
or a fantasy, like children have. You know?'
'I know,' said Starsky. 'We played together, but no one else
could see you. Everyone else thought you were an imaginary
friend, of the sort that little children create. Eventually, I
learned to pretend I saw you no more. But I did see you.
And I touched you, and spoke with you, in secret. And one day, we
grew up.' Starsky touched his cock, again, stroked it,
gently. 'You are all grown up now, do you see. So am
I. And you don't remember making love?' He laughed,
delightedly. 'The first time I ever made love was with you.
You told me that in the future, I would teach you how to make love, and
then you would come back to the past to return the favour.
I didn't understand then, but I understand it all now. Now,
it is my turn to teach you to make love.'
Ken started to say that he had had sex many times, that he'd been
married, and had several male lovers. He looked up into David
Starsky's eyes. They were hot blue flames, that seared him from
his flesh down to his bones, and thence to the very depths of his
soul. Those blue eyes were burning with love for him, and him
alone.
'Yes,' said Ken Hutchinson. 'Teach me how to make love.'
Starsky sighed, and smiled, and lay down beside him. 'I remember
all the things you taught me,' he said. 'The words you
said. They ring in my soul, like bells of beaten bronze.
They echo, through me, through time. They are truth. And
they led me to an understanding. There is no one truth.
There is no truth that is singular, and indivisible, no matter what may
be taught in some aspects of religion. We talk about it in bed,
you know.'
'Talk? In bed?' asked Ken, trying to keep a straight face. 'About
religion?'
David Starsky was laughing himself, however. 'About religion,' he
said. 'Of all things. But yes, we talk. I tell you my
beliefs, and you tell me yours. And you taught me that the body
doesn't determine our fates. It is our souls that call out to
each other. They need to be together, even if we are separated by
time. And by so much time. Too much time. Oh,
Hutch. I would die to be with you, if that was the only
way.' He pulled Ken close to him.
Ken could almost feel it himself, that calling of soul to soul.
He remembered the voices calling to him as he entered the door, that
first day -- Ken Hutchinson, you are mine. He
remembered arches, in time and space, and the coolness of a cave in the
hot afternoon of an Egyptian summer. He remembered a well, and cool
water when he was thirsty, held out to him by a beloved hand....
'Yes, you are beginning to remember, now,' said Starsky. 'You are
beginning to hear my soul calling to yours. It is our souls that
call out to each other. But we answer with our bodies. Like this.'
Ken felt his body gathering the letters, the syllables, the words of
his answer. Soon, he would be able to form entire sentences.
'Hutch!' said Starsky. His eyes blazed again with that
bright blue flame. A spark of that flame leapt from his eyes
across the short distance to Ken's heart.
Ken opened his mouth to answer, but only a sob emerged. Starsky
covered his mouth with his own, and Ken abandoned the attempt to answer
with words. He answered with his body instead. He felt
Starsky's cock pressing against his belly. It was warm, and
hard, and quivering with need, and it seemed so sad and so ridiculous
that it should be lonely when it could be buried deep inside his own
body. He twined his legs around Starsky's body, and Starsky's
cock slid into the crevice between his thighs.
'You want me there?' asked Starsky, perhaps in words, perhaps with his
body, perhaps with his soul -- Hutch never really knew.
'Yes,' he answered.
***********
'I never let anyone else do that,' he told Starsky, afterwards, in the
deepest peace he had ever known.
'I know,' said Starsky. His voice was very soft, and knowing.
They lay quietly for a long time, watching time pass. A ray of
moonlight found its way in through the high, deep window, and played
with the shadows on the wall.
'Time is passing,' said Starsky. 'Time is our enemy.'
'Why?' asked Hutch. 'Why can't you stay here with me?'
'Why can't you stay there with me?' asked Starsky, in his turn.
'It never works out, Hutch. It is unfair. It is all
wrong. We should be together for all time, but it never happens,
and it will not happen. Not in my lifetime. I turn a corner
one day, and you are gone, back in your own time. And it is
difficult -- no, it is terrible -- to be invisible to everyone but your
lover. At first it is fun. To do or to say whatever you
want, and not to be noticed. But then, you realize you do not
exist. Here, I exist only to you. In my time, you exist
only to me. It is hard to bear for any length of time.'
'But you visit me at night?' asked Hutch, desperately.
'When I can,' said Starsky. 'When it is the right time, like
tonight. We were in luck, tonight.'
'Yes,' said Hutch. 'Tonight. Does my luck still hold?'
'Are you asking me to do it again?' asked David Starsky, perhaps in
words.
The moonlight was chasing the shadows on the wall. The shadows
caught at the moonlight, and swallowed it. Or perhaps the moon
had simply gone behind a cloud. The lack of moonlight cast the
room deep in its deepest darkness. David Starsky was invisible to
Ken Hutchinson's eyes, and only his warmth and heaviness made him real
to Hutch's senses. In the darkness, their souls spoke, each to
each, and their bodies answered.
************
Sunlight streamed through the window, and the shadows fled. The
netting around the bed stirred. David Starsky warm body was no
longer answering the questions of his soul. Ken Hutchinson
turned, and reached across the bed, but the bed was empty.
'Starsky?' he called, but this time there was no answer.
*******************
'I'm going to be gone for a few days,' said Ken. 'I can't say
exactly when I will return, so expect me at any time. If I am
gone longer -- well, it can't be helped. Don't send out search
parties.'
His housekeeper, Mrs. Mahfouz, nodded. 'Your grandfather said the
same, when he went on one of his expeditions,' she said. 'You are
very like him, are you not?'
'I suppose I am,' Ken admitted.
I look like Lawrence of Arabia, he thought, studying himself in a
mirror. He was wearing the gallabiyya -- a loose Egyptian robe --
sandals, and the traditional Egyptian head covering. He did,
however, have a backpack, with a bottle of water, a package of granola,
and a flashlight, among other modern conveniences. Also, he was
carrying his gun. No one ventured out into the Egyptian wilderness
without a means to defend themselves, even in this day and age.
He turned to the window. Outside, perched in the palm trees, sat
a flock of white ibis. A good omen, he thought.
Ibis were sacred to Thoth, whose name means Truth and Time. Thoth
was the husband of Ma'at -- Order and Balance. The opposite of
Isfet -- chaos. He wondered if what he was about to do would
result in ma'at, or create more isfet. But his soul was not as light as
the feather of Ma'at, despite the fact that a considerable portion of
it had gone missing in the past.
He opened the front door of the house, and strode out into the village,
walking purposefully, as one going on a journey, into a known future.
An hour later, he returned cautiously, creeping carefully through the
palm trees, hiding behind rocks, until he found the concealed entrance
to the older parts of the house. The wards of the small key which
he had found in his grandfather's safe, matched the wards in the lock
of this door. The hinges of the door creaked, but there was no
one to hear.
Silently he crept along the hallways. This part of the house had
been long closed off to all but the workmen, and the atmosphere was one
of dust and lifelessness. Then, it was not. Between one step and
the next, one heartbeat and the next, he seemed to pass beyond the veil
that hid one world from the next. Voices and footfalls.
Sounds of urgency. Bustle of preparation. Someone brushed
past him, jumped, turned to look at him, but didn't look at him.
Looked through him. The man shivered, laughed. 'I vow this
place is haunted,' he said in Arabic, and went on his way.
Someone else turned to see what was about. David Starsky's
blue eyes met Ken's. The eyes widened. The mobile mouth
tilted in a smile. The eyes and smile were friendly, but
innocent. They held no knowledge of the pleasures they had shared
the night before. This was a younger David Starsky. Ken
smiled into those innocent eyes, and watched the reaction.
Innocence, yes. But no lack of desire. Joy, even.
'David!' called a peremptory voice. 'We leave soon. Be
ready!'
'Yes, Grandfather,' David Starsky answered.
They were alone in the hallway.
'You have returned at a bad time,' Starsky said, in a low voice.
'We are leaving on a journey. In part, we are going to a
wedding. My sister is betrothed to a man who lives in Cairo, and
the wedding is next month, so we are journeying there to prepare.
The wedding will be in my uncle's house. But also, my grandfather
hopes to build up our trading alliances.'
'I see,' said Ken. 'I will come with you. As you see, I have come
prepared for a journey.' He showed Starsky his backpack.
'Do you carry with you the wonders of the future?' asked Starsky.
'You have shown me so many things....'
'David! David Starsky. What are you about? Lazy
boy.' It was a female voice, this time.
'Mother,' said Starsky. 'I am not lazy. You must have me
confused with Nicholai.'
'Not at all. Your brother is packed and ready. Get moving.'
'Yes, Mother.' Starsky smiled, ruefully.
'I'm sorry for holding you up,' said Ken, as he followed Starsky into
his bedroom. 'May I help you?'
'You may help,' said Starsky, with a sweet smile. 'But keep an
eye out for my family. If they walk in, and see my things
floating in mid air....'
'Yes. I see,' said Ken. 'That would be difficult to
explain.' He kept one eye on the door, while he helped Starsky
tie his spare clothing into bundles.
'We will be gone for some weeks,' said Starsky. 'Perhaps we will
have time to be alone, in secret. The last time you were here,
you kissed me.'
'Did I?' asked Ken.
'Don't you remember?' Starsky's voice changed, from an almost
sultry tone to one of adolescent awkwardness.
Ken realized the man was younger than he looked. People in this
time aged more quickly, he thought. 'I remember kissing you,' he
said, truthfully.
'We were both boys, then,' said Starsky. 'But you have
grown up, faster than me.'
'No, not faster. It is just....' Ken gave up trying to
understand the time shifts himself, let alone explain them to Starsky.
'You are grown up,' said Starsky, again. 'The last time we met,
we were still boys, but you kissed me. You said that you wanted
to love me. But then, you went away, and never came back.
Until now. Why did you come back now? I had given up
hope. I was almost beginning to believe I had dreamed you.'
'Because it's time,' said Ken. 'Because we're both men, and it's
time.'
'Yes,' said Starsky. 'Come with me. But be careful.
It is not easy, being invisible. Do you remember that?
Never mind. I will help you. There were one or two times
when we were boys, that you scared people. A few times that
my family began to doubt my sanity.'
'I'm sorry,' said Ken Hutchinson.
Starsky reached out, and cupped his face with one hand. The hand
slid around his neck, and touched the hair escaping from his turban.
Ken shivered with remembered pleasure. Starsky smiled, and ran a
lock of the hair through his fingers.
'Your hair is so soft,' said Starsky. 'It clings to my fingers
like silk.'
Ken opened his mouth to answer, but heard a footstep in the hall
outside the room. Starsky stepped back, quickly, and picked up
his baggage. 'Let us be off,' he said.
'Yes, let us be off, lazy boy,' said a woman's voice from the
doorway. 'Or your sister will be too old to marry, by the time we
reach Cairo.'
'Mother, she is only fourteen,' Starsky pointed out.
'She is almost fifteen,' said Starsky's mother. 'And I am not
long for this world. I am getting older with every passing
moment. It is time to leave.'
Starsky caught Ken's eye, and barely hid his grin until his mother was
safely out of the way. 'Are you still willing to come with me?'
he asked.
Ken grinned back. 'Lead on, MacDuff,' he said.
'You were always saying things I didn't understand,' said Starsky.
'When did I become MacDuff?' He looked confused, but amused at
the same time.
'It would take too long to explain,' said Ken. 'And besides, the
quote is inaccurate. It should be "Lay on, MacDuff!"'
Their eyes met, and caught, and held. 'Would you like that
better?' asked Starsky.
'David Starsky! The whole family is waiting. What are you
doing? Get a move on, boy.' That was Starsky's grandfather,
again, in a voice that brooked no opposition.
Starsky sighed. 'If I dared,' he said. 'I would tell them
to go on without me, and stay here with you. But it is my
sister's wedding.'
'We'll talk about this later,' said Ken.
'Yes. I like talking with you. I can say things I couldn't
say to anyone else. I know you won't be offended, or angry, or
frightened by what I say.'
They stood for a moment in the doorway of the house. Ken
Hutchinson looked out upon the Egyptian landscape of several centuries
in the past. He had been here before, he remembered. But he
had thought those visits were dreams, or his childish
imagination. Even the last visit Starsky had spoken of, when he
had kissed his boyhood playmate, and told him he wanted more.
That had been in his teens, yet he dismissed it as a fantasy
afterwards, and put it out of his mind. What was different now?
Last night, he realized. What we did last night made us part of
each other. Now, I cannot dismiss him, and go back to my old
life.
There was a camel train waiting just outside the gates. 'I have
my own camel,' said Starsky, proudly. 'I bought her last year,
with my own money.'
'We're going by camel train?' asked Ken. 'Not on the Nile?'
'Not by the Nile,' said Starsky softly, as they climbed up on his
camel. Ken got up behind him. Starsky's camel snorted, and
shivered and raised her head to wail in protest at the extra weight,
but that was typical camel behaviour, and no one paid any
attention. 'The Nile route is too dangerous for such a long
journey. The brigands use it as well. We'll be joining a
larger camel train, as we move North. That's why we're so anxious
to be off.'
The camel struggled to her feet, growling to herself about the stupid
human beings who insisted on making long journeys in daylight for no
good reason. Starsky swatted her, and threatened to turn her into
dinner if she didn't behave. Her head swivelled around on her
long neck, and she gazed at Starsky with her startlingly beautiful
eyes. Then her eyes slid past Starsky, and seemed to light upon
Ken. She started, and sniffed, and snorted, and shook her head.
'I think she sees you,' said Starsky. 'Or she sees something
strange.'
'That's me,' said Ken. 'Something strange. At least in this
time and place.'
The camel shook her head again, and raised her eyes to the heavens in
the long-suffering attitude of the females of all species when they
consider the vagaries of males. She heaved a deep sigh, and
joined the camel train as it set off across the desert.
************
On to Part Three
Part Three
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