Page 76 of Disco Witches of Fire Island

“I just need to,” Joe said simply. “You told me your truth, and now I need to tell you mine.”

Fergal nodded. “Go ahead.”

“So the whole truth is, he dumped me a year and a half before he died and had completely stopped speaking to me. I didn’t even know he had passed away until former friends started leaving me condolence messages on my answering machine. They’d had no idea we’d even broken up. No one knew except our families. When Elliot started to get sick, he didn’t want to be around the gay community. We started isolating ourselves from almost everyone. So when those old friends started to call, I should have told them the truth, but I said nothing. I guess I just wanted people to think we were still together at the end …Iwanted to think it.” Joe’s breath sputtered as he tried not to cry.

“That must’ve been really hard.” Fergal placed his hand on Joe’s.

“No,” Joe said, calmed by the touch of Fergal’s hand and wishing he’d move it away at the same time. “I mean, it was, but that’s not what I’m trying to say. When he and I first fell in love, I didn’t know Elliot had HIV. It was weeks later that he told me, just after the first time we had sex. And I was so much in love with him I thought I could handle it. But then it was like … like I couldn’t stop thinking about it, you know what I mean? Every other thought was about AIDS.” Joe began talking fast, unable to look into Fergal’s eyes. “He’d freeze up if I tried to talk to him about it. And every time he coughed or sneezed, I thought he was dying. When we made love, I’d spend half the time amazed at how lucky I was—and then the rest of the time wondering if I was going to get infected by what we were doing or wondering how and when HIV was going to steal Elliot away from me forever.”

Fergal slowly moved his hand off Joe’s. Despite the hot room, Joe felt a chill. He wanted to throw his arms around Fergal, but he knew he shouldn’t. He had to say what he had to say first. Otherwise, it would all happen again, and he’d end up ruining Fergal’s life too.

“Joe,” Fergal said, barely any emotion to his voice, “what are you trying to say?”

“This thing, you and me together …” His dampening eyes focused on one of the vintage photos of Howie and Lenny on the beams. “I don’t think I can do it again. I know I can’t.” Joe’s voice cracked. “I’d be such a shitty boyfriend. I’m too selfish and too weak. I’d make it all about me—like I’m doing right now. You don’t deserve that. You need someone better than me—someone stronger. You’re the best person I’ve ever met, and I care about you so much, but … I can’t.” He took a stuttering gulp of air. “I’m so sorry. I still want to be here for you. I mean, as a friend. I can’t imagine not having you in my life.”

Joe reached over to take Fergal’s hand, but Fergal pulled away. Rage had replaced the tears in his blue-blue eyes.

“I’mnotElliot,” he said. “I’mnotthis disease.”

“Fergal, please—” Joe reached for him again.

Fergal lifted his hands in warning. “Don’t! I don’t need your friendship or your damned pity. And guess what … Elliot didn’t need it either!”

He leaped from the bed and pulled on his underwear, T-shirt, and jeans.

Joe got up and wanted to reach for Fergal but stopped himself. “Hold on—don’t go yet. You’re not being fair.”

“Fair? Fuck you. I didn’t ask to get infected. No one does. And guess what? I just might not die from this. You ever think of that? In fact, I don’t plan to. And won’t you be sorry then. This might have been your only other chance to fall in love with a decent guy, and you blew it.”

“Wait,” Joe begged, tears and snot dripping. “Don’t leave like this. Stay a minute.”

“It’s too late. It’s done. You know something? Elliot was right to leave you. What a fucking phony—you’re so wrapped up in your own fears of what might be, you’re turning into a very sad, stuck, and lonely little man. It’s pathetic. I never want to see you again.”

Fergal stormed to the ladder and descended.

Joe ran to the floor hatch to follow. “Fergal, can we please just talk?” By the time his foot touched the middle rung, he heard the screen door slam, then the gate. Fergal was gone.

38.Disco Inferno

“When the fire started, we rang the alarms, but no one listened. It wasn’t their fire, they said. They watched us burn and laughed.”

—Disco Witch Manifesto #201

Less than a week after Joe and Fergal broke up, Howie was awakened by the siren blasting from the Pines Volunteer Fire Department. The smell of smoke indicated disaster was within a hundred feet of the house.

“Lenny! Joe! Fire!” he yelled, leaping out of bed and into his vintage lavender satin pajamas. He bounded into the living room and out the front door. When he looked down Picketty Ruff, his heart dropped into his stomach. A moment later, Lenny and Joe, half dressed, stood next to him, their terror-filled eyes watching the smoke and flames pour out the little windows of Asylum Harbor. The motley group of volunteer firefighters, having only gotten there minutes before, hoisted a hose up the steps. It appeared the fire was contained to the interior of the little bar. They had to be careful to drench the place, since the island’s structures were mostly made of wood and built so closely together.

It took just forty minutes for the deluge of water to vanquish the conflagration, but not before it destroyed the entire inside of Asylum Harbor. Seeing how devastated Joe looked, Howie grew evenmore concerned.For Chrissakes, First he loses Fergal, and now the bar? What the hell is going on?Chills of foreboding swept up and down Howie’s neck. Could this all be related to Lenny having seen the egregore in the Meat Rack? Even though Joe couldn’t be the chosen one, it certainly appeared as if the Great Darkness or some other enemy of the light wanted to break the boy.

In the days that followed, the insurance investigators cleared Joe, who had gone to bed at least thirty minutes before the fire started. They determined it was most likely faulty wiring that had ignited some trash in the liquor closet. However, other rumors started to spread. This one saw a Graveyard Girl running down the boardwalk that night; that one swore there’d been a man in a polo shirt who pulled the alarm; another said it was a drunken day-tripper, without a place to stay, who’d wandered in from the cold. None of the rumors led anywhere. The only certainty was that Asylum Harbor, as the island had known it for so many years, was gone.

Once the bar was cleared for safety, Joe, Dory, and Vince stepped into its charred remains, searching for anything salvageable. The oak bar top that Joe had spent so much of the previous two months polishing was one long piece of debris-covered wet charcoal. The storage room of beer and alcohol had combusted, leaving brown, green, and clear shards of glass. All of Elena’s decorations were obliterated.

“Damn it!” Joe choked back tears when he saw the cindered remains of the old kitschy merman clock that hung over the bar. “I really loved that clock.” The merman’s bearded face, the one that had reminded him of Fergal, was blackened with soot. His trident was completely gone, and his plastic green tail had melted into something yellowish resembling a dried animal dropping.

Vince shook his head and punched the scorched wall. “That they can get away with this makes me want to scream!”

The light had vanished from Dory’s eyes. “Is there any way we can possibly …?” She was unable to say the wordsgo on.

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