A Tale of Four Queers

Chapter 11

"Miguel? The bank, quick where is the bank?"

"Justin, what the fuck do you need the bank for and where's my camera, and your ice cream is melting."

"Not now. The bank, Miguel. NOW! Please it's almost closing time."

Brian, John and Bobby were baffled. Miguel pointed across the street. Across from the café was the First National Bank of Cartago.

"Come on," Justin begged then sprinted across the street. Brian threw a wad of cash at the waiter and told him to save the table for them. The waiter never turned down American money and gladly agreed. They followed the excited blond as he raced to the bank.

"The manager, please, I have to see the manager." Justin was almost crying as he was trying to get someone to understand him. Miguel quickly came up behind him and requested to see the manager. Within moments a smartly dressed man introduced himself in flawless English.

"I am Mr. Perez, how may I help you?"

"I was instructed to give you this letter by Anna from the convent. My name is Justin Taylor and this is my friend Brian Kinney. I don't know what the letter says."

Mr. Perez read the letter then showed everyone into his office. It was closing time and the last of the customers were being served then escorted to the locked doors.

"Mr. Taylor, Mr. Kinney, do you have some form of identification with you?"

Brian, now annoyed that an explanation was not forth coming, let his dismay be known.  "Excuse me, Mr. Perez. Justin, why the fuck do I need to show my ID and what the fuck is going on here?"

"Please Brian, just show your passport." Justin pleaded as he took his passport out of his messenger bag.

"I am satisfied that you are whom you claim. Gentlemen, follow me please. Quickly, before the timer on the vault closes the door."

The group followed Mr. Perez to the vault. The manager took out a special set of keys to open one of the compartments. He shuffled through a few papers and what looked like rolls of paper. He removed a packet of papers and a long tube. He rechecked the drawer, satisfied he had removed all the appropriate contents. He then locked the compartment and ushered everyone out. They all heard a loud click and watched the heavy door swing closed.

"Come, one more task before I show you out. Please let me copy your passports and notarize the copies for my records. I will give you a copy of the letter of introduction. I must keep the original along with the copy of your ID."

"Justin, I still don't understand what's going on."

"Me neither but have faith, okay."

"Mr. Kinney, your young friend is very wise. Please a few more moments to conclude our business then I will explain. Perhaps you will join me at the café across the street; this is cause for celebration."

"We have a table waiting," John answered.

"Good. There, we are finished." They watched as the manager clipped the original letter together with the copies of their ID. He gave a copy of the letter to Justin. And handed the packet and the tube to Brian.

"Come, the rest of the staff is waiting to go home. Let's go to the café." The bewildered group followed Mr. Perez back to the café.

"Okay, now will someone tell me what's going on?" Brian looked at Justin and then to Mr. Perez. They all sat at their table and coffees miraculously appeared.

Justin began. "When I went back to the Basilica, Anna was there waiting and she returned the camera. She said I'd be very happy because she photographed several pages that mentioned Kinney and Patrick. She said she had a surprise for me and then she handed me this letter and told me to go to the bank and fast because it was going to close soon. So I came running back here."

"Okay, so now the letter?" Bobby asked this time. Mr. Perez had the answer for that one.

"The letter was written by one of the missionaries that ran the old church a long time ago. It said the bearer of the letter was the owner of certain property that was left in his safe keeping. The letter was passed down from curate to curate. This bank is one of the oldest in the country. At some point one of the curates realized that the property would be safe here so the curate made arrangements for the property to be stored at the bank. I never looked in that box until today. I don't know what's in it."

"But the letter, how can we be the owner of something from that long ago?" Justin was so curious.

"The letter states that John Aidan Brian Kinney and Patrick Taylor are the rightful owners of what you now have in your possession and either they or their descendants have a right to the property. You are Brian Aidan Kinney and you Justin Taylor. I doubt if any other white men bearing similar names will visit here and make claim to the contents of that box. Please, will you share this with me? Who are you?"

John and Bobby started the much told story about JABK and Patrick. And about the places their journey has taken them and the people they've met. While John was explaining, Bobby reached into Justin's bag and pulled out the journal to show Perez and Miguel. They oohed and ahhed as John went through the tale. Justin opened the tube as Brian unwrapped the packet.

"Oh my god, Brian, look!" Carefully Justin unrolled a painting. It was a painting of Kinney and Patrick. It looked like it was based on a photograph. They were standing in front of a church. Brian gingerly went through the packet of papers. Most of it looked like pages from Kinney's journal and then a sepia photo slipped out from between the pages.

"Justin." Brian handed Justin the photo. "Oh Brian." Justin gazed at the photo and then at Brian. Tears started to well in eyes that reflected the sky.

"Mr. Perez, Justin, he needs..."

"I understand, Mr. Kinney, he needs to get out of this hot sun, perhaps a quiet room somewhere to collect himself. Miguel." Perez made his instructions to Miguel who immediately got up to get the car.

"Gentlemen, Miguel will take you to a very pleasant inn just outside the village. I assure you it will meet your standards and is amenable to your very special needs. It is owned and operated by a very close friend of mine. I will be at the bank in the morning at ten. If I may be of any service to you, Miguel will bring you." Perez winked at Miguel as he opened the doors for Brian and the rest of the party. Perez whispered a few words to Miguel who nodded and wore an ear to ear grin.

Each man shook Perez's hand and expressed his thanks. Brian was the last to shake the bank manager's hand. "Mr. Kinney, you are a very fortunate man to have a friend as beautiful as Mr. Taylor. We should all be that fortunate. Again, if you are in need of anything during your visit, contact me." Perez handed Brian his business card.

"Thank you for your help and I know I'm a very lucky man."

Miguel drove the weary travelers to the inn. The inn was deceivingly modern with all the amenities a tired traveler could want. They were checked into very comfortable rooms that had a connecting door. Miguel gave Brian one of his cards and assured them he would be back in the morning but not too early.

"Miguel? Where will you stay?" John didn't see Miguel check into the inn.

"Senor Perez has offered his home to me for the night. No fear, I will be in very good hands." They watched as Miguel swished his way down the hall.  Brian got Justin settled into their room. He wasn't sure but something wasn't quite right with the boy. He softly knock at the connecting door and entered John and Bobby's room.

"Brian, what is it?" Bobby looked up from his chair and saw the furrows in the man's brow.

"It's Justin. All this heat and excitement, sometimes it's too much for him. I don't think he has a fever but something's not right. We may need a doctor."

"Brian, let's cool him down with a shower. I'll help you. Bobby, can you go and ask the front desk, see if you can buy bottles of water and something like Gatorade."

"Okay. I'll be back soon and I'll ask if there's a doctor available, just in case."

Bobby left the room and John and Brian went to join Justin. He was curled up in a little ball in the middle of his bed still fully clothed and sweating profusely. He appeared to be asleep and was mumbling. Brian stared at him for a few moments. That helpless feeling he felt after the bashing when he watched the boy sleeping in the hospital crept up on him. He was about to panic. He wanted to pick the boy up and fly him out of there. Brian wanted to be able to call Debbie or Jennifer and ask for their help but he couldn't. He could feel it happening, what all his friends called his queen outs. But this time he couldn't afford to queen out because Justin wasn't able to soothe him. Brian forced the feeling away.

"John, can you start the shower? Make it warm. He hates cold showers and hot water hurts him. I'll get his clothes off. Will you help me get him in there?"

"Of course I will. What are brothers for?" John smiled at Brian, reassuring him that this was only the stress of everything happening so fast. Justin would be fine.

Brian began to strip off his own clothes first, then he adjusted the air conditioning so that the humidity would be removed but not overly cool. Then he began to remove Justin's clothes. The boy was still mumbling; Brian could make out Patrick's name. A naked John came out of the bathroom to help Brian get Justin into the shower. Brian raised an eyebrow.

"I know he isn't very heavy but he's dead weight. You won't be able to hold on to him and wash him at the same time. Some twinks are slippery when wet." John smirked and hoped his joke would lighten the tension. Brian nodded. John was a very practical man and he trusted his brother.

Brian easily lifted Justin but he soon found that John was very right. Justin began to thrash around and his mumbling grew louder. Between the two of them they managed to keep the slippery boy on his feet, and wash the sweat and dust from him without falling. It wasn't an easy job but someone had to do it. They dried Justin off as best as they could and got him into bed. The brothers then dried themselves. Brian remained clad in only his briefs. John got dressed and went to look for Bobby. He promised to bring Brian something cool to drink and some snacks. It was going to be a long night.

Morning did not come quick enough for Brian. Justin was still out of it but his skin was dry and cool to the touch. He was sleeping a more natural sleep that Brian could recognize and he was spooning up against Brian. Brian was exhausted so he remained in bed as long as possible.

"Brian," John whispered.

"Hmm?"

"How is he doing?"

"He's still sleeping and I feel like I'm a hundred years old."

"Well don't worry little bro, you're as gorgeous as ever."

Brian cracked open an eye and looked at his brother who was kneeling at the bed side. "I don't feel gorgeous. I feel like shit."

"We brought you some coffee and we're all checked out. All we have to do is get the two of you dressed and in the car. Miguel is waiting."

"John, does this place have a phone? I'd like to call the hotel, arrange for a doctor. I'd feel better if he was checked out."

"I'm not sure. I certainly didn't see one. Look, it's after ten; we can go back to the bank. I bet Perez would help us. You should see the look on Miguel's face. What's that expression you fags use, well fucked? That's him, well fucked."

John started to giggle and so did Brian, then John ruffled Brian's hair. "Come on, I'll stay with him while you get washed up and I'll start packing up your stuff. We'll be back in San Jose in no time." Brian stretched, got out of bed and headed for the bathroom. It was the start of another day.

Justin was up and walking where he was led but he was a zombie. More asleep than participating, he was consulted in everything and he managed to swallow some water without choking. He was fast asleep with his head in Brian's lap by the time they got to the bank.

John and Miguel went into the bank to speak with Mr. Perez. Perez called their hotel and a local doctor would be there when they returned. John and Perez exchanged business cards and shook hands. Perez winked at Miguel and Miguel assured Perez of his undying devotion. Perez bid them God's speed back to San Jose.

Miguel did make it back to San Jose in record time. Justin was still sleepy but easily roused.

They got him into the room and the doctor was sent for. While they were waiting Brian's concern about the fragile journal pages and the painting grew. The photo seemed strong enough, printed on a hard card but after so long in storage in a cool vault the heat and humidity could cause damage. He sat watching Justin nap and started laughing to himself. Now he was starting to sound like Justin.

"What's so funny?" John noticed the smile on Brian's face and the soft laughter.

"Me, I was thinking like Justin. We need to get the painting and the journal pages in a safe place. What we need is a UPS store. Make a copy for Justin's journal then ship everything back to Sidney Bloom."

"You're right, you do sound like Justin. Bobby and I will take care of it. We don't all need to wait for the doctor. I'll ask at the front desk. I'm sure there won't be a problem. We can do some window shopping, buy a souvenir or two. We'll be back soon."

"Take your time. Enjoy the day."

"He'll be okay."

"I know; he's much better. I just..."

"I know how you feel. Later."

"Later."

By the time the doctor arrived Justin was alert and answering the doctor's questions. It was a case of heat exhaustion, a mild one but the doctor did recommend a few more days of rest and plenty of electrolyte fluids. After seeing how Brian fawned all over Justin, the doctor knew the boy was in good hands. Justin managed to eat some bits of fruit, had a glass of juice, then went back to sleep.

Brian took the time to read the journal. The next stop would be Guatemala, unless the new pages indicated someplace different. Brian flatly refused to consider Nicaragua or Honduras. Those countries were far too volatile for him. He continued to read the passages until a small cry from Justin drew Brian back to his side.

"John, don't go," Justin whimpered. "Please."

Brian's blood ran cold and his heart pounded in his chest. He got up off the bed and began to pace the room. An angry growl escaped his throat, his fists were clenched. He tried to calm himself. He trusted John and deep down he trusted Justin. He must have heard wrong or there was a simple explanation that he just couldn't see. This couldn't have anything to do with the Bobby incident; John Anderson was not a vengeful man, not like Brian Kinney. Brian would have to be patient, wait until Justin recovered and then he would ask Justin. Brian's mind was racing, he needed to get out, needed air, needed his dick sucked.

Through the connecting doors Brian heard John and Bobby coming in, laughing and joking; Brian went in.

"Hey."

"Hey, did the doctor show up?" Bobby enquired.

"Yeah, he's fine. A mild case of heat exhaustion. We did the right things. He'll need a couple of more days of rest and more sport drinks and he'll be fine. Did you find a UPS store?"

"Yup, all done. The Sidney Bloom gallery will have another Kinney painting to work on by ten AM tomorrow. I made copies of the journal pages for Justin and a copy of the photo," John boasted.

"That's good. Can I ask you guys a favor? Can you keep an eye on him for a bit? I need to get out for a while."

"Of course. I'm sorry Brian, we've been having a great afternoon and you've been cooped up here."

"Not a problem. I just need to stretch my legs a little."

"Go, Bobby and I will look after him. There's a coffee shop downstairs. We can get him lunch or dinner or anything he wants. Take your time."

"Thanks."

Brian returned to his room, shoved his wallet in his pocket and kissed the sleeping boy on the forehead. Satisfied he was truly asleep and cool to the touch Brian fuckin' Kinney walked out.