All Queers Must Die Page 2

  “It’s not as if you haven’t done that before—just kidding. I love you, Bart, and I’ll be counting the days until you get there.”

  “Oops, almost forgot,” Bart said. “Mom sends her birthday greetings. She couldn’t be here, because she was the only one available to fill in for another doctor who got sick. They didn’t want the guy coming into work with the runs.”

  “Good call on their part,” Jeremy said. “God, I’m gonna miss you.”

  “Ditto,” Bart said.

  A MONTH and a half later, Bart’s cell phone rang as he was packing up some of his books.

  “Hello there, Momma, and what’s happening at the hospital this fine day?”

  “I need you to come see me at the hospital right now, don’t even bother to change,” Bart’s mom said. “I’ve got some bad news, and it can’t wait another second.”

  Chapter 2

  Welcome Back

  “HEY, DUMMY,” Walt said to Bart, as he walked up to the hot dog stand which sat in the parking lot of a now vacant paint store.

  “How’s it going, Bart?” a woman in her mid-thirties dressed in a bikini top and denim shorts said. She handed Walt his hot dog and a cold can of Coke, then turned her full attention to Bart. “The usual for ya.”

  “Yeah,” Bart said.

  The woman stood away from her hot dog stand and took off her baseball cap. She pushed her long wavy brown hair back, and replaced the cap on her head. For reasons of hygiene, she washed her hands with some soap and water she had next to the cart. After drying her hands on a clean towel, she began to fix Bart’s hot dog.

  “This one’s on the house, since I hear you’ll be leaving us today,” the woman said.

  “Thanks, Kate,” Bart said, “but you need to earn a living like the rest of us. Just say a prayer for me every now and then—that’ll be plenty.” He handed her a five dollar bill and held his hand up so she wouldn’t give him any change.

  “I’ll be praying for you, don’t have any worries about that,” Kate said. “I hear Florida’s even hotter than it is here in Georgia right now. And it’ll probably be worse where you’re going, seeing as how Maynard Shores is almost all beaches.”

  “It’s unusually hot even for late March, that’s for damn sure,” Walt said, straightening out his police uniform. “Bart, I’ll meet you at the bench under the trees.”

  Once his order was ready, Bart headed toward Officer Walter—Walt—Kent, who was sitting under a grouping of large trees. Unlike his younger brother, Jeremy, Walt had a crew cut, was tall at six foot four, and muscular from constantly working out at the gym. Bart sat next to twenty-eight-year-old Walt, who wasted no time in getting down to business.

  “I don’t like what you’re fixing to do one damn bit. I’ve known you since you were a kid, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “I’ll be fine, I’ve taken precautions, and Jenna and Frank have already been there a month. It’s too late for me to back out now, Walt.”

  “I’ve got no connections to help you there, beyond what we were able to do for you here.”

  “That was more than enough to get me in the door of that resort. The rest is up to me at this point.”

  “Our entire police force is prepared to back you up here, if need be; but down in Florida, our hands are tied. Maynard Shores may look welcoming and pretty on the outside, but it’s all just a thin veneer. My brother must’ve found that out firsthand… and suffered for it.”

  “Yeah, but not only do I know what’s there—I’m going in looking for it—that, my friend is the difference.”

  “I’ve got an envelope in my car containing everything you’ll need, Bart. I’ll give it to you when we leave.”

  “Is this where you tell me not to go looking for revenge on the rich folks, and to mind my manners like a good little boy?”

  “This is where I tell you to show those bastards what happens when they mess with a Georgia boy. My dad and my granddad both worked for the police force in this town till they retired. Folks remember them, and we officers look out for our own. They always considered Jeremy one of their own. Even though he never joined the force, he was always around helping when anyone needed help—well, you know all that, Bart. You do what you have to do in Florida. If you get in over your heads, you and the others get your asses back here quick. The chief himself says a blind eye will be turned to anything you might feel the need to do in Florida.”

  “Other than that, we’re on our own there, huh?” Bart said.

  “You’ll have one friend in Maynard Shores; Judge Haymond has a vacation home there—his contact information is in the envelope. The chief told him the plans, and if you, Jenna, or Frankie get into serious trouble—the judge will be available to help, as a last resort.”

  “We’ve all stayed in touch with Judge Haymond—he’s a good guy, and his wife’s a real sweetheart. At least, we know we can trust them.”

  “And they’re the only people you should trust while you’re there—never ever forget that.”

  They finished eating, said goodbye to Kate, then walked to Walt’s police cruiser, so Bart could get the envelope. Walt opened his car door, picked up the large manila envelope, handed it to Bart, then spoke. “Open it and check everything, Bart.” He waited until Bart did so, then continued. “The ID is good, and the other stuff will fool anyone, since essentially they are real. Doc Riley was a big help, so was that computer guy that’s running things for Frank while he’s in Maynard Shores.”

  Bart looked up at Walt. “Any more advice before I head out?”

  “Just two things. First, a hug from a Kent that’s here and loves you like a brother.” He hugged Bart warmly then patted him on the back. “Secondly… and most importantly; show those bastards in Florida no mercy.”

  “I’ll give them more than just a taste of Hell before I’m through.”

  BART GOT in his car and drove straight through to Maynard Shores. It was dark by the time he arrived, and he didn’t have time to explore or see the sights before pulling up to the Maynard Shores Beachfront Resort’s gatehouse. He stopped the car and rolled down the window when the security guard walked his way.

  “Good evening,” the security guard said. “Do you have a reservation?”

  Bart took out his wallet and presented his driver’s license to the guard.

  “Oh, it’s you—I was told to expect some changes,” the guard said nervously, while looking at Bart. “You look good—lost a lot of weight. It was a hell of a way to lose it, though—if you don’t mind me saying so. In any case, welcome back, Mr. Kent.” The guard returned the license, Bart put it back in his wallet, then responded.

  “Just call me, Jeremy, and it’s good to be back.”

  Chapter 3

  All the Changes in the World

  THE GUARD raised the barrier arm and Bart drove into the Maynard Shores Beachfront Resort and followed a beautifully landscaped curving road with palm trees, shrubs, and flowers on both sides. He opened the car windows and took a deep breath of fresh air… he couldn’t see it yet, but his nose could smell the hint of salt in the air that let him now he was definitely near the beach. Passing a well-lit tennis court made him think of the last time he and Jeremy had played tennis together. Although he was overweight, Jeremy was still fit enough to enjoy sports and other recreational activities. The thing that always sabotaged his weight loss plans was his love of sweets. Some people were addicted to liquor, drugs, and even sex—poor Jeremy was addicted to doughnuts and pastries. Bart tried to snap himself out of, and away from his thoughts. It wouldn’t do for him to think about his past life with Jeremy, when he was now supposed to be Jeremy.

  Finally, the resort came into view—structurally, it was more spread out and wide than it was tall. In fact, at only two stories tall, it was small by resort standards. But he’d already been told that it was built to be more of an intimate and luxurious resort rather than a large and imposing one.

  He drove under the covered portico a
nd a slim valet with curly brown hair, who looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties quickly walked to his door. Bart, now posing as Jeremy, lowered his window.

  “Welcome back to The Maynard Beach Resort, Jeremy. We got a call from the gatehouse a couple minutes ago, letting us know you’d driven onto the property. My name’s George, but you probably don’t remember that, since I heard you have amnesia.”

  “That’s correct, but it’s still nice to see you again, George,” Bart said. “Where should I park?”

  “Oh, we’ve already been told to deal with your car and luggage; so, you can go straight inside.”

  Bart popped the trunk, then opened his door and exited the vehicle.

  “Wow, I guess you must’ve had to buy a whole new wardrobe, because of all the weight you lost.”

  “Something like that,” Bart said, trying to separate his car keys from the rest of his key ring.

  George patted Bart on the back and smiled warmly. “It’s OK, Jeremy. Jenna gave us your extra set of car keys. You won’t remember this, but we have copies of all the employees’ car keys in the event of an emergency. Such as, if the cars have to be moved in case of fire or someone locks their keys in their car. It came in handy when you locked your keys in your car that time.” He was silent for a minute, then looked Bart directly in the eyes. “I’ve missed you… and I’ve kept you in my prayers while you’ve been getting better. You may have forgotten me, but I’ll never forget all the help you gave me when I needed someone.”

  “Jeremy!” a female voice said, from the direction of the resort entrance. Bart looked up and saw Jenna Chase walking his way, smiling, and waving. She wore a white polo shirt, and shorts with sneakers. Her shoulder-length, wavy auburn hair bounced as she walked.

  “Hello, George,” Jenna said. “I’ve come to take Jeremy off your hands.”

  “The best of luck to you this time, Jeremy,” George said. “And we’ll make sure your luggage gets safely to your quarters.”

  “Thank you, George,” Bart said, then turned his full attention to Jenna. “Jenna Chase, long time, no see.”

  “It sure is,” Jenna said. “Get over here and give me a hug, you hunk, you.”

  As they hugged, a female standing just to the right of them spoke. “Hunk? My… my, that should certainly sound like a foreign phrase to your ears, Jeremy Kent.”

  Bart and Jenna stopped hugging, and looked toward the young woman who appeared to be in her early twenties.

  “Bitch,” Jenna said.

  “Oh, please,” the woman said. “As if I don’t get called that name at least a dozen times a day. Hello, Jeremy. My name is Rachel Kristoff—not bitch. Although, actually both names would apply—my name is Rachel, and I can be every bit a bitch when I want to be, which is most of the time around this place.”

  “I’m guessing we weren’t friends?” Bart said, taking a moment to look at Rachel closely. She had long, straight, light blonde hair that fell a couple inches below her shoulders. When she smiled, her bright blue eyes caught the light and shone brightly. With her figure and good looks, she could easily be a model. The short, sleeveless, red dress she wore highlighted all her best features, as well as her perfect tan.

  “Jeremy,” Rachel said. “It’s not that we were enemies, exactly… you usually brightened my day, and were always good for at least a couple of laughs. It just won’t be the same calling you fat, or pig, when you’re in such good shape now.”

  “Wow, you really are a bitch,” Bart said.

  “We’d better head inside,” Rachel said.

  The three walked toward the entrance which was almost entirely glass. “I hope you’re not my boss or anything, Rachel,” Bart said.

  “No… I’m worse—I’m the owner’s stepdaughter. I argued against you coming back, you know, Jeremy.”

  “Why was that?” Bart said, as they entered through a door being held open by a uniformed doorman.

  “I’ll be honest with you,” Rachel said. “I’ve got no reason not to be honest, since I don’t really give a damn what most people think. I just plain ole’ don’t like fat people. If the rest of us can do what it takes to be thin, then fat people have no real excuse to be the way they are. Now that you’re in such great shape, I don’t mind you being here. Maybe sometime—when I need a handsome gay escort, I’ll even invite you out for drinks. I know how lonely you must’ve felt being ignored by everyone the first time you were here.”

  “Did they ignore me on your orders?” Bart said.

  “Like I’d even bother giving out those sort of orders,” Rachel said. “I didn’t have to order people to do what came naturally to them. They didn’t want to hang out with a fat boy any more than I did. I was just more honest about it. Well, I’d better go powder my nose… I’ll see you two later. Oh, and I do love what you did with the hair, Jeremy. The closely shaved sides and long front work for you—it’s definitely an improvement over those messy curls. Mind you, if the hair was any higher in the front, you’d have a pompadour. You’ve gone a little blonder too—I definitely approve.”

  “Rachel, could you be any more insulting to a man who’s just come out of the hospital, and is still suffering from amnesia?” Jenna said.

  “I heard him say your name when he saw you, Jenna,” Rachel said, “so, I figured he must be getting, at least, a little better.”

  “He recognized me from having visited him in the hospital,” Jenna said. “I don’t recall you ever even asking about him, much less visiting him.”

  “I never go to hospitals to visit anyone,” Rachel said. “There are too many sick people in hospitals.” She laughed, clearly amused by her own joke. “OK, so it was a bad joke. Listen, Jeremy will soon remember how much of a bitch I am, so why act nice now?”

  “If you know you’re a bitch, then—,” Bart said, before being interrupted.

  “Don’t start trying to psychoanalyze me again,” Rachel said. “Like I’ve told you before, Jeremy, I like being who I am. I wasn’t abused as a child… I even had a pony. There’s no deep inner need inside of me for anything; I’ve always gotten everything I wanted… and I like it that way. I’m just a bitch, because I want to be—although, I’ll probably be much less of a bitch toward you now. All the changes you’ve made to yourself: the plastic surgery after the car accident, and the weight loss that resulted because of it have changed things. See, all the changes in the world can make a difference—it’s moved you up in life. Ta-ta, I’d better get moving.”

  She walked away, turned left, then turned around and waved to Bart and Jenna just before she was out of their range of sight.

  “Rachel’s a real piece of work,” Jenna said to Bart, before realizing he was looking elsewhere.

  With Rachel gone, Bart had a chance to look around the immense entry area, and was impressed by what he saw. While the portico outside was paved with a beige tile, the floors inside were shiny white marble with specks of silver which sparkled under the light of several large crystal chandeliers. But all of that paled with the view directly in front of him. The back wall from the floor to the ceiling was large, clear, seamless glass which gave visitors an unobstructed view of the beach and water. Even in the dark, with just outdoor lights for illumination, it was an amazing sight to see—the moonlight shining over soft waves on the water.

  “Don’t be lulled by the waves outside,” Jenna said. “You’ll need to keep your wits about you when you meet the rest of the gang—which will be mere minutes from now.”

  “I can hardly wait,” Bart said.

  Chapter 4

  Surprises Galore

  BART LISTENED to the sound of the waves, as he and Jenna walked along an outdoor covered walkway. Jenna turned to Bart, pushed back the hair on top of his head, and smiled.

  “That haircut does look good on you,” Jenna said.

  “It’s nice and tranquil out here—and just so damn misleading,” Bart said.

  “Nonsense,” Jenna said, wrapping her arm around Bart’s. “You n
eed to stay in character and as an amnesiac this place is pure paradise in your eyes—remember that.”

  “I’m an amnesiac—remembering things isn’t my strong point.” He smiled and winked at her. There was no need for him to try and remember anything—not when there was so much he’d never be able to forget.

  They walked around the corner of the hallway into a courtyard area. There was a lighted pool in the center surrounded by lounge chairs, to the left of which was a good size open air bar, with a glass roof. Inside the bar, facing Bart and Jenna, was a small crowd of people holding balloons.

  “Surprise!” the group said in unison before singing “For He’s a Jolly Good Fella.”

  “Welcome back, big guy!” a handsome man wearing a tank top, shorts, and sneakers said. “You look freakin’ amazing, Jeremy. I know you don’t remember me, because of the amnesia and all, but I’m the fitness pro here, Simon Fenton. We used to workout together before your accident.”

  “Nice to meet you… again, Simon. But I thought Jenna was the fitness pro here.”

  “I tend to do more one-on-one training with the guests than Jenna does,” Simon said, then smiled.

  “He tends to do a little too much of the one-on-one stuff,” a tall, thin woman said, as she stepped forward from the crowd. “I’m Lisa Maynard-Kristoff, the owner of this fine establishment. Everyone just calls me Lisa.”

  Bart felt a chill run up his spine from the hard stare Lisa was giving him. He smiled, and used the moment to check her out. She had unusually short, brown hair, which was brushed to the side, and vibrant hazel eyes with just a touch of gold to them. Her thin face was highlighted by high cheekbones. He’d seen many women that looked like her when he’d visited his mother at the hospital, where she worked as a doctor—cancer had touched this woman’s life at some point, and maybe even still had a hold on her.