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This afternoon I took down the box from
the shelf in my bedroom closet. In it are many unfinished articles for
magazines and newspapers plus short stories and 3 unfinished
manuscripts. I came across this manuscript which I had started 5 years
ago, or thereabouts, before I started blogging on many different blog sites. I committed myself to blogging and put other writing aside. I reread the manuscript today
and decided to continue with it getting back to my old habit of writing a minimum of 5 pages a day.
This is basically a true story
with only the names changed, about a different time and place and a
young man's discovering the path of his life.
Crtiques more than welcome but won't necessarily be heeded. :O)
A
YOUNG MAN'S PARADISE
By
MARTIN D. GOODKIN
THIS BOOK IS
DEDICATED TO:
THE LATE JOSEPH QUINT AND ALBYN KOHANSKI,
My 'adopted'
Godparents
THE LATE FLO GOODKIN COHEN
The only person to ever give me
complete unconditional love.
THE PICCIOLOS;
SAM, DOROTHY, VINCE AND
DON
WHO, PATIENTLY, TAUGHT ME A TRADE THAT I FELL BACK ON MORE THAN
ONCE.
JOE THE GREEK, MARY CONOVER, PERRY AMAZON, ARMAND AND
ALL THOSE IN
MIAMI BEACH WHO AIDED ME ON MY JOURNEY.
This is a work of fiction.
Though places/sites/locations mentioned existed, and some still do, the
characters in it are the invention of the author and do not depict any
real
persons.
1.
JACK & ROSE
"I don't know which I
should do first; feed you, throw you in a shower or put you into bed!"
Rose
said, after responding to the knock on the door, opening it and seeing
her
nephew for the first time in eight years. She proceeded to do all
three.
As her nephew Jack took a shower Rose 'made'
dinner. Actually Rose
never made dinner as she
hadn't cooked since she was twelve years old, put a pot
of water on the stove to boil for spaghetti, forgot it with the water
eventually
evaporating, burning and starting a smoke fire in the house.
Ever since then she
had either eaten out, eaten what someone else made or opened a can, package, jar or bag as she did this evening,
eventually mar-rying a professional cook.
Putting the contents of a
can of tuna on a bed of lettuce, put-ting a box of
crackers, a jar of
mayonnaise, a jar of kosher
sour pickles and opening a
can of
soda she called to Jack that when he was finished to come out and
eat.
Jack laughed when he saw the tuna and told Rose that his last ride
had been in the back of a truck full of freshly caught fish and he had
to sit in
the middle of the catch from the panhandle to Miami Beach. After he was
left off
he vowed to never eat another piece of any fish again, but being hungry
he
gobbled the tuna, crackers, lettuce and pickles down. He proceeded to
tell her
about the days that it took him to hitchhike from Hollywood,
California.
He told her about his first ride taking him to Las Vegas
where, in a half-hour, he lost whatever money he had. He told her about
the day
he spent in New Orleans. The next day he arrived in the panhandle hungry
and
tired. He walked out on a pier where there was a bait, tackle and coffee
shop.
He approached the owner and asked if he could do some work in exchange
for food.
When Jack finished sweeping the floors, doing the dishes
and putting up some
stock the owner's wife feed him and her husband gave him ten
dollars.
What he didn't tell her about were the
'interesting' escapades
he had. There was the traveling salesman who had picked him
up outside of
Flagstaff and when they got to Albuquerque suggested that Jack stay
overnight
with him at a motel. He did, and after a good night of sex and sleep, he
woke up
to find a note from the salesman thanking him and next to it a
twenty-dollar bill. He didn't mention the truck driver who had a fold out bed in the
back of
his semi and told him about truck stops. Also, how most guys, single or
married,
driving alone, picking up hitchhikers were either
looking to give or get a
blow
job and how right he had been. He remembered, but didn't tell Rose,
about the
driver who handed the keys over to Jack so that the guy could get him
off while
they were driving from
Dallas to Houston.
Between what he was telling
and, Rose knew, what he wasn't telling, she could see the fatigue
overcoming
him. "Get your stuff and we'll put you in the empty apartment across the
way,"
Rose said, taking the keys from her manager's board in the kitchen. It
was then
that he learned that not only did Rose work the breakfast and lunch
shift at
Al's but man-aged the twenty apartment building she lived in for free
rent and a
few dollars. As she explained it wasn't a hard job as most of the
tenants were
older people and didn't cause any problems except wanting to have
someone to
talk to. She told him she would get some clean sheets and towels from
the
storage room and the next day would see what else he could use or would
need.
There was already a bed in the place, left by the last tenant who had
died, and
Jack collapsed on it and immediately fell asleep.
Rose never did
understand that while she was a morning person Jack was a night person and the
next morning she came in
yelling, "Okay, lazy, out of
bed. I'm on my break and
if you want breakfast and coffee get your butt out of bed and get over
to the
restaurant." She pulled the covers off him, completely ignoring the fact that he
was nude, as, in the future,
she would ignore the fact that a guy was in bed
with him. Their morning-night
augments went on, affectionately, as long as he
lived across from her and even when he moved out.
The apartment was
efficiency with one large room that was a combination of a bedroom,
living and
dining room. There was a small separate kitchen, the bathroom and one
large
closet. Rose got practically everything he needed for the apartment from
the
storage room and told him that when she was off on Monday they would go
to
Jordan Marsh's in Miami and get whatever else he needed plus some, as
she
called them, 'Florida clothes.'
After that first excursion it became a
monthly ritual for Jack and Rose to spend an after-noon in Miami. They
would
catch the bus at Washington and Fifth, get off at the first stop after
the
McCarther Causeway and walk
over to the Jordan Marsh department store.
They
would walk around the store with, invariably, Rose buying Jack a shirt or some
other article of clothing.
After they would go up to the dining room where they
would have lunch, a favorite restaurant of Rose's, and, occasionally,
after he
had started work-ing, Jack
would pick up the check treating his aunt, for a
change.
One thing Jack could never get use to was Rose's ability to curse
like a trucker without the listener realizing what he/she heard and,
later, if
they had actually heard what they thought she had said. By the same
token she
reprimanded him if, and when, which was very seldom, he cursed.
She,
also, took for granted that her nephew was gay. Though they never talked
about
it she didn't bother with the, 'A nice girl' routine, nor comment about
his
sleeping mates when she walked into his apartment unannounced, which
more than
once embarrassed the guy in his bed. Over the years she would meet and
accept,
except for one she didn't like and told Jack so, his lovers and them as a
couple. During the Anita Bryant furor she castigated the woman whenever
and
wherever she could.
Rose was a hard and conscientious worker giving her
all to both being a waitress
and building manager with
her bosses appreciating her and compensating for her
efforts. She enjoyed making,
and saving, money but
she was far from being a miser with her earnings.
When she wanted something she
bought the best but after paying herself with a bank de-posit
in her savings
account.
She was constantly on Jack's back to save money knowing she
wasn't being listened to and, many times over the years, getting him out
of
jams. By the same token without a word she cleaned his apartment two to
three
times a week.
What sealed their relationship forever was
when on the
first Mother's Day after he hitch-hiked to Florida he took her out for
dinner
and gave her a card. From that day forward no one could say anything bad about
her nephew, though she still could, without encountering her
wrath.
For the first two weeks, after arriving in Miami Beach,
Jack went to the beach, worked on his tan, swam and explored the area
south of
Fourteenth Street along Ocean Drive.
Between the First Street
fishing pier and the jetty
at the most southern point of Miami Beach was an
uncrowded, non-guarded wide stretch of sand with the ocean on the east and the
dog track on the west. The main attraction of this particular beach was the
jetty, jutting out into the
ocean with many nooks and crannies, some large
enough for two people to spread out, and many did.
As you walked over the rocks
you might have to go around a guy sunbathing nude or a couple, male with male,
male with female, having all
kinds of sex. Sometimes when you were swimming just
north of the jetty you could connect with another guy and get a blow job under
water.
Should you not be lucky to score at that end of the beach there
were always the First, Third, Sixth and Tenth Streets tearooms/public
restrooms.
While you could meet some-one at the first Street fishing pier john it
wasn't
safe to actually have sex there and at the same time the Third Street
one was
family oriented. The Sixth and Tenth street ones were considered the
good
ones.
The 'mayor of Sixth Street', Jim, sat on his chair near the large
blanket with a straw hat on keeping an eye out on his territory. Though
the
tearoom wasn't really a safe place to have sex it was a great place to
meet
someone for it.
The best all around bathroom for cruising and sex was on
Tenth Street. There were four urinals on each side of the entrance when
you
walked in. The four on the east side had porthole windows above them
overlooking
the steps leading up to the bathroom, yet were high enough that the
person
walking up could only see the head of the person in front of the urinal.
With,
with the door ajar, you could see anyone approaching the entrance from
the west
side urinals. In both cases if anyone was on their knees they had plenty
of time
to act innocent.
The commode booths had large holes, known as 'glory
holes', between the walls. Some were big enough to almost put your head
through
and many guys did!
In the evening, during the season or off, the seawall
between Sixth and Tenth Streets was a meat rack for gays along with
straight
lovers, honeymooners and assorted other couples. The park abutting the wall was
green and, in the evening soft lights in the trees and the dark ocean on the
other side made it one of the most romantic
spots in the area. Having the sand,
water and lifeguard stands out in the darkness the area was made for
sex.
During the day men would line up sitting on, or against, the wall in
skimpy bathing suits showing their assets and letting both the men and
women
know what they had and that they were available.
Day or night, good or
bad weather, season or not, from the jetty on the southern end of Miami
Beach to
Fourteenth Street, sex, especially gay, partners were available.
