Karam blinked at the clap that took place just a few inches away from his face.
The jeweler’s eyes followed the plunging trajectory of the unfortunate fly that had been smacked between Bernard’s meaty hands.
“Sorry!” Bernard shrugged and grinned. “Hate the little buggers,” he added.
Karam’s new acquaintance wiped his hands across his jeans without looking. If he had spared a glance, he would have seen a small mess — a single detached and twitchy leg, a portion of delicate wing crumpled beyond recognition, fluids that had once been inside the bug's body, and bits that had been part of the compound eyes that allowed the insect its unique perspective on its surroundings.
Karam smiled politely, but if he and Bernard had not just shared an intimate exchange in the restroom he might have gotten up and left with Nathan just then.
“Ah, I don’t mind,” Karam said instead. “You only startled me. It’s good to see how fast your reflexes are.”
Karam personally hadn’t minded the insect, but recognized it was silly to expect everyone to treat small life in the same way he believed it should be.
From his seat Nathan frowned a bit, his drunken mind had even started applying a bit of personification to the bug based on its strange behavior moments earlier. But he knew it had been nothing more than a common housefly. The rest the alcohol and his imagination had provided.
The three men turned their discussions to normal gay niceties — once the insect was gone from their view it was gone from their conversation and their afternoon. None of them heard the intermittent buzzing of the injured insect as it struggled to right itself despite missing limbs important for its mobility.
The men chatted for nearly another half hour, enjoying their drinks and getting to know Bernard better. Bernard had just offered to get another round of drinks when Karam’s phone rang.
If it had been anyone other that Mark he would not have answered.
“Excuse me for a moment.” Karam locked eyes with his potential new lover to show his continued interest in the large muscular man, who he now realized actually reminded him a bit of his caller.
“Hello! Mr. Walters-Rivera, how is every little thing this fine Monday?” His smile somehow radiated through the phone.
On the other end Mark sounded a mess. He explained that he hadn’t seen Brad since Saturday afternoon and that he expected Brad had taken another one of little excursions.
Ultimately, Mark got round to asking, “Have you seen him?” Mark knew it was a desperate question to ask the man, but he knew the way Brad felt about Karam, even if he wasn’t willing to admit it.
“No, I haven’t,” Karam answered. “But I can come and help you look. I’m in the Castro and can be there by—” he glanced at his watch and added, “3:15.”
Mark agreed almost immediately. “Russ has been helping outside in the yard, so I’ll take all the help I can get.”
Karam felt for the man — his pismire was not known for taking the best of precautions in his excursions. Despite the situation he felt his manhood twitch in his pants.
“I’ll be there soon,” Karam used a reassuring tone. “We will figure this out together.” Karam tried to bolster Mark before hanging up.
Both Bernard and Nathan had curious looks on their faces.
Karam smiled and provided explanation.
“A friend and former client of mine is having some trouble,” he said. “I’m afraid I’ll have to cut our afternoon short.”
Karam stood as he spoke, the leather sole of his shoe barely missing the fly that had despite all odds gotten itself reoriented and had been dragging itself towards Karam.
Bzzz... bzzz...
“Was that Brad?” Nathan asked. He hadn’t had occasion to meet Karam’s friend but he knew enough about the man through Karam— though he had no idea about what their relationship truly entailed.
“No, it was his husband. Mark.” Karam said coolly.
Buzz..buzz...
A little fly dragged itself on its remaining five limbs over the dirt and grit on the floor beneath the tables.
The fly registered Mark’s name through waves of pain and disorientation.
“Karam!” Brad screamed the name again and again and again.
The buzz of his torn and tattered wings sounded feeble after the damage from the sudden clap of massive hands. “Help me!”
Bernard for his part looked confused and wanted to engage more with the attractive and deeply sensual man.
“Need a lift?” He offered. He’d only had a couple beers.
“I would not say no to a ride,” Karam let the word hang in the air for a moment for its implications before finishing, “to their place. But they are deeply private individuals, so I’d ask that it only be a ride. This time.” He added the last couple of words at the end to show his continued interest.
Perhaps over time he could introduce this man to Brad — after they found him of course.
BZZ. BZZ. BZZ.
“Sounds good.” Bernard said.
The three men stood, walking away from the table, leaving the stranded insect unable to follow. On the floor, Brad tried to adjust his gaze, but even his complex eyes had been damaged by the smack of giant hands.
Jeffery walked into the backyard area in time to see his favorite customer leaving. The bartender gave Karam a hug and a wink eyeing his new “friend”.
Waving goodbye, Jeffery turned towards their table, finding a group of annoyed looking queens starting to lay claim to it as soon as he could clear it.
Gathering up the glasses, Jeffery smiled at the trio, pivoting his foot as he turned. He never noticed as one of his boots shadowed and then fell over a desperate creature that, despite its injuries, had tried to follow Karam right up to the panic of a shadow suddenly overtaking it.
Jeffery didn’t even notice the soft crunch of the insect as he was too busy balancing glasses. After clearing the table, he smiled with a flourish that signaled that the new occupants could claim their seats.
A single wing twitched but ground to a halt like a motor running low on fuel. Bzzz....
Jeffery left with the glasses, not knowing of the twitching form he left behind, mostly mashed into the ground but clinging to a last thread of existence.
But one of the table’s new occupants — a smiling man eager to share dish with his friends — crashed the thick tread of his sneaker atop the bug and finished the job.
For Brad, it was sudden shadow and a final stomp without even the dignity of being noticed by the stomper. He would become fodder for the broom the next time Jeffery or one of the other bar employees bothered to do a good sweep of the patio area.