STORY
The gas leak
by Kenton deAngeli
For the most beautiful boy in town there was nothing but to open a used clothing shop. And such a success it was, because he, in the grey of his eyes and in the wisdom of his long fingers knew exactly which blouse was appropriate for May Day, knew the perfect slacks for a job interview, that the widow with wrinkled eyes and a tight grey bun wanted a dress worn by a young girl who refused to let her departing boyfriend climax, so that he would return to her. He listened quietly to their requests and disappeared to the back of the store, never hesitating. He did not always return with what they had asked for, but always with what they wanted.
The most beautiful boy in town had four tattoos. One, encircling the bicep of his left arm, said in French the words morte et amour, which mean "love and death." The second was an open eye on his left palm. The third, on his right pectoral muscle, was a heart with the initials "N.S." inscribed into it. The fourth was known only to his lovers. It was on the thigh of his left leg, and invariably upon seeing it a waking lover would leave, forgetting many of their clothes. This is why he started a clothing store.
He rented a disused bicycle shop on the corner and renovated it. He changed the sign, which used to say "Mike Bikes," to read, "Mike's Assorted and Used Women's Clothing and Other Necessities," even though his name was not Mike. It was Jacob. It was such a long sign that it stretched all the way around the corner of his store, and even covered the top of the store next to him, which used to read, "Coffee and Pancakes" but now read "Other Necessities and Pancakes."
The nature of the business plan of "Mike's Assorted and Used Women's Clothing and other Necessities" made it possible to purchase an extremely wide range of specialty clothing. Dazed by the deep grey of his eyes, women sought dresses worn in coitus by women who were desperately loved, by women who never loved, who forget their own names in climax or those of others, by women who forgot their fathers. Jacob pointed them out, one by one—the pants of a hopeful girl, the hairtie of a hateful one, the socks of a poet or the eyeglasses of a singer.
The reason that, every night, even if he tried not to, that Jacob took someone into his bed was mostly because he was the most beautiful boy in town, and because he did not mind increasing the level of general pleasure and well-being. He accepted this role mutely, never complaining. Most likely he considered it a public service. You see, he had never been in love, and would have started in surprise had someone suggested to him that his nightly service was used by anyone to communicate anything other than friction, and pleasure, and unknowingness. He slept with old women, large women, ugly women, women more beautiful than his mother. He slept with men, too—burly ones, effeminate, hairy, small, large. His store carried no men's clothing, however, because the first thing a newly-made faggot does in the morning is grab his clothes and leave. This was mostly the reason.
What made him irresistible—what caused people to flag him down on the walk home, what drew employees at the grocery store, what made young girls forget about their appointments, was of the nature of mirrors and the sleeping self. If, the woman in line behind him at the bank thought, if that palm with its eyeball that never closes, the clerk at the convenience store thought, if that palm below those wide grey eyes could reach the parts of my back I cannot, the beautiful young girl at the dance thought, if it could cradle the nape of my neck and examine it, if it could rest in the moist darknesses of myself that are never seen, if the fingers that extend from it could express myself to me in their touch; if they could show me what they see, I would feel and finally understand.
Understandably, Jacob became immensely prosperous. He aged, but this made him no less beautiful, and a continual stream of lovers kept him supplied with as many clothes as he cared to sell.
Under the town where Jacob lived was a network of gas pipes. They supplied heat and hot water to all the homes and businesses. One day, a spark from a broken heater fell into the network, and everything exploded. Most people died. So did Jacob.
The surviving owners of "Other Necessities and Pancakes" took over the store, but as the stock dwindled, and without its charismatic owner, Jacob's clothing shop eventually went out of business.