“Whimpered, dahling. You whimpered, as I recall,” William had joked.
Chapter 7: Truth or Bare
Saturday, August 19, 1995
Matt stood in the lobby of the Embassy Suites hotel, dwarfed by its cavernous atrium. It was 6 stories high, ringed by over 200 suites. The ground level public area was edged in stone retaining walls planted with ferns and other tropicals. There were scattered benches and tables where the guests could relax in the vast indoor space, sipping cocktails, listening to music from a grand piano.
Matt was here for his interview with the GM. A note had arrived in his campus mailbox yesterday bearing only the name of this hotel and the cryptic “6:00 p.m. Lobby.”
Matt had dismissed the whole anonymous-note-in-mailbox bit as more of William’s theatrical flair—wondering momentarily if the note was more James Bond, less Michael Corleone. Otherwise, he had given it no more thought—even during the long drive to the south side of Oklahoma City.
Until he walked into this atrium. Matt had never been in a hotel this fancy. He felt underdressed in his jeans, t-shirt, and sneakers. He had assumed the hotel would be a dump, considering that they were all just college kids with college kid incomes, i.e. zero. He had assumed dress would be casual since—college kids, again—and that whole bit that he had already been naked with the president/Godmother. He had assumed a lot of things that were proving to be wrong. Maybe he was in over his head. Maybe he should just leave.
William sidled up beside him, seemingly appearing from thin air, more likely having been watching from behind a fern. He wore slacks and a polo shirt.
Matt was surprised William hadn’t gone for the tuxedoed look, which befitted both Bond and Corleone.
“Matthew, dahling,” William said. His eyes smiled, but his mouth seemed drawn.
Matt’s heart raced. His face flushed. This was the first time he had seen William since their hookup, since Matt had jizzed onto William’s chest and face, since William had jizzed into his ass
What exactly was the proper greeting when meeting someone with whom one had exchanged jizz? Handshake? Hug?
“Ready?” William asked. He motioned Matt towards an elevator, pushed the call button. While they were waiting, William reached out and discreetly touched Matt’s arm.
“I’m sorry if I seem distracted. Something happened that has me concerned. Don’t worry. It doesn’t involve you. At least not yet.”
The elevator doors dinged open. They rode up to the fourth floor in silence.
Matt’s mind looped on that word “yet.” He wondered if this interview was somehow jinxed by the fact that it was occurring exactly four months after the Murrah Building bombing. People in the city still drove with their headlights permanently on, signaling their empathy for the families of the 168 people who had been killed.
William and Matt walked along the atrium-facing corridor and stopped at #421.
William ushered Matt into a suite with a living area and a separate bedroom.
Matt was not surprised to see five guys seated in the living area. He had expected two more based on William’s statement that there were eight members of the group.
What surprised him, what he found unnerving, was that these guys wore children’s cartoon masks (the kind with a hard plastic face with holes for the wearer’s eyes, nose, and mouth and a thin elastic band to hold the mask in place).
The characters staring at Matt seemed to be of the Disney variety: a rodent (mouse or rat wasn’t clear), a pirate, a princess, a lion, and a clown.
Clowns creeped Matt out, always had with their leering smiles. This clown seemed to have chosen circus footwear as well: he wore bright blue high tops. On a positive note: these guys were dressed casually (three wore shorts), so there was that.
William motioned for Matt to sit in a chair facing the cartoon squad.
Matt obeyed. He looked around nervously. This living area alone was bigger than any motel room he’d been in, and those had been crammed with two queen beds—one for his parents and one for him and his brother.
“Okay guys, this is Matthew,” William said. “Matthew, I’d introduce you to the guys, but can’t reveal names to non-members. So, if you need to address them, just refer to them by their respective character: Mouse, Pirate, Princess, Lion, or Clown. You alreadyknow my name.”
William paused for breath, then looked at Matt. “Ever playTruth or Dare?”
Matt nodded.
“Then you know the basic rules, although we call this gameTruth or Bare. The ‘truth’ part is the same. If you choose ‘bare,’ you must remove one item of clothing.”
Matt couldn’t help smiling. Leave it to the GM to invent a game that involved nudity.
William held up his forefinger. “Rule #1: You can’t choose ‘truth’ more than twice in a row. Third time must be ‘bare.’ Then you can pick two more ‘truths,’ if you want.”
