Page 29 of Disco Witches of Fire Island

“FiveAM.,” he muttered, still absorbing Howie’s puzzling comments.

“And you just went to bed after?” Howie asked.

“Not exactly,” Joe said. “I went to chill on the beach and ended up seeing this guy …”

Joe caught himself. Did he really want to tell Lenny and Howie about the Gladiator Man? They knew almost everyone on the island, it seemed. But then again, what would they think of him practically stalking a complete stranger? A stranger he was so obsessed with that he was now haunting Joe’s dreams. They’d think he had lost his mind … and maybe he had.

“I knew it.” Lenny said. “You met someone! Do tell.”

“Nothing happened,” Joe said. “It was just some random hottie. Unfortunately, he left before I could say anything, and I ended up talking to some asshole deckhand who was out swimming at five in the morning.”

Lenny’s and Howie’s eyes lit up with a newfound eagerness.

“A deckhand from the ferry?” Howie asked, giving a side-glance toward Lenny. “Swimming that early? Which one?”

“Be specific,” Lenny added. “What did he look like?”

“I dunno,” Joe said. “Like any hungover straight guy, I guess. Around my age, tall, arrogant, and annoying.”

“Dark brown hair?” Lenny asked Joe for confirmation. “A little scruffy but adorable, with stunning blue eyes?”

“Yeah, his eyes were kinda blue,” Joe said, not wanting to go overboard with praising the looks of a cock-blocking straight man.“I wouldn’t call him ‘adorable,’ but he’s good-looking enough. Oh, and he had huge feet, and I swear his toes were webbed.”

“I knew it was him.” Lenny laughed and clapped his hands. “That’s our boy!”

Joe let his fork clack down on the plate.They really do know everyone.“Your boy?”

“All you had to say was webbed toes.” Howie smiled broadly. “That’s our Fergal!”

“Fergal?” Joe wrinkled his nose at the funny name.

“We call him Fergal the Ferryman,” Lenny declared.

“Such a cutie patootie.” Howie faux swooned. “He’s worked on the ferry since he could crawl. Always such a sensitive soul. As a child, we’d watch him comb the shoreline for any beached sea life he came across: horseshoe crabs, octopi, baby sharks. He started swimming before he could walk. Max, Lenny, and I would babysit sometimes, and we’d all spend hours splashing and diving. Such a wonderful, curious child.”

“His uncle, Captain Harve, became my—” Lenny stopped himself. “Became one of my best straight friends, very open minded. I call him hetero-savant.”

Joe smiled and shrugged. “So, I guess Fergal’s not homophobic like I thought …”

Howie and Lenny looked at each other and chuckled.

“Homophobic?” Lenny said. “Someone’s not paying attention.”

“Just between us,” Howie said with a wink to Joe, “while it’s said that in the past our young ferryman has dabbled with girls quite successfully, he’s definitely not straight.”

“But I saw him talking to a girl the other day in the harbor,” Joe countered.

“Talk schmalk.” Lenny waved his hand. “According to my own hypersensitive, cosmically powered gaydar, I’d say our boy’s at a sixty–forty split these days, with the percentages having shifted in our direction.”

Joe’s brain skidded to a stop, recalculating all its previous assumptions. “Fergal is bi?”

“More like gun-shy gay,” Howie added.

“Then why did he act like such a dick around me before?”

“Usually, people act like dicks because they’re nervous or insecure,” Howie said. Then his eyes glazed a bit, seeming to watch a more intriguing idea flit across his brain. “Very interesting, Fergal swimming at dawn. I’ll look closer next time. It’s been all very hazy.”

“Whatexactly was hazy?” Joe threw up his hands, making his frustration evident. “Can you please just say what you mean?”

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