Joshua's Problem [Exercise]

Joshua knew he had a problem when he had woken up four days ago and discovered a thick, yellowish fluid inside his underwear.

            At first he wondered if maybe he’d had a nocturnal emission, but he didn’t have any abnormal dreams that he could recall. Then, as he peeled back the fabric and felt the cold, sticky glob that had collected there, the smell hit him. It was like opening a bag of rotted fish that had been in the refrigerator too long. That’s when he started to worry.

            He hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, instead deciding quickly to shower and head to the free clinic four blocks west, over on 10^th street. He told Jerry before slipping out that he had to go to the grocery store to pick up his check and deposit it in the bank, which was partly true. What he didn’t tell Jerry was that he was going to empty out his account, take all his money, almost $2,500 in cash, and board the next bus to Chicago, leaving Indianapolis forever.

            Jerry was pushing sixty-eight, and had owned the house Joshua lived in with Brent and Ollie, according to him, for almost thirty years. Ollie said that it had been passed down to Jerry from his parents after they died. Ollie seemed to know the most about Jerry, probably because he had lived there the longest, over five years. He was now twenty-six. Brent, on the other hand, was a little younger, only twenty-one, six months older than Joshua, and had moved in with Ollie and Jerry when he was nineteen. He said it was nice because Jerry bought him all the alcohol he wanted even though he wasn’t old enough to drink.

            When Joshua had first moved in, barely eighteen years old and fresh out of high school, he had thought their living situation was a bit strange, none of the men being related to one another, but Jerry seemed nice, willing to provide all the necessities and then some to Joshua free of charge until he could find a job and get himself established, a far cry from the life he had left behind: his mother and Tony, the abusive stepfather. The beatings. The nights going to bed with no food. Feeling trapped. Alone. Helpless. All of that was over. But then things started to get weird.

            It had begun innocently enough. One morning Joshua emerged from the bathroom, fresh from his morning shower, towel draped across his shoulders, and turned to head down the hallway toward his bedroom when he nearly slammed right into Jerry.

            “Whoa, watch it buddy,” Jerry said, extending his arms as the two collided.

            “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were out of bed yet,” Joshua said as he tried to sidestep his way around Jerry.

            But Jerry slid in front of him and stopped. “Say there, you’re pretty well-hung for a guy your age.”

            Joshua looked up and saw Jerry smiling. “Oh. Thanks, I guess.”

            Jerry nodded and stepped away.

            The next day, Jerry had come to him with a proposition. “How would you like to make some easy money?”

            The idea was simple: Jerry ran a website from his den where people could join a chat room and donate money to him. All Joshua had to do was perform a striptease and masturbate on camera.

            “You’ve got be joking,” Joshua said, trying to sound polite.

            “I’m not. What’s the big deal? I mean, you masturbate already, don’t you? It’s not like you don’t know how.”

            “Well, yeah. I mean, it just sounds weird.” He could see Jerry looking at him intently, small rectangular glasses framing a wrinkled face, with jowls that reminded him of Roger Ebert before the cancer.

            “What’s weird about it? You’ll be alone, by yourself, like you usually are. Nobody around. And they can see you but you don’t see them. It’ll be virtually no different, except people will be tipping you money.”

            As it turned out, it was a pretty lucrative business. He found out Ollie and Brent were both already in on it, and on an average night, either of them could earn between thirty and fifty dollars, almost twice that if they did it together. Jerry typically kept two-thirds of the profits, and let the boys have the rest as spending money. Two or three shows a week, and they were easily clearing $450 a month, practically enough to cover the cable and utilities.

            The first time he tried it, Joshua felt like he was going to die. The embarrassment of seeing himself in the video window standing on the stiff Berber carpet, a lanky, pale kid with too-long brown hair tugging his legs out of his jeans and squinting at the screen, was such that at first he didn’t think he was going to be able to even get an erection. He quickly typed brb after getting down to his boxers and knocked on the door leading upstairs.

            “Jerry? Hey, listen, I don’t think I can do this…”

            But then Jerry was in the den, leading Joshua by the arm back to the computer, reassuring him. Jerry had sat down and examined the chat window for a moment. “Hey, you’re getting quite a few viewers. See? Nothing to be ashamed of. Watch this.” Then he typed in, Be kind, guys! It’s his first time! “There,” he said, “now just try and relax. I’ll leave now. Call me if you need anything.”

            And just like that, the numbers began to skyrocket. Joshua never would have guessed that so many people would be interested in watching him pleasure himself, but apparently a lot of people out there (he didn’t know if they were male or female, and honestly didn’t want to) were extremely turned on by a first-time eighteen year old on a webcam. Tips started to pour in, first a few dollars here and there, with frantic requests in the chat window like Show ass please!, and Keep it up gorgeous. Before long, Joshua began to feel emboldened. All of the attention and enthusiasm was exciting, and he fed off the energy, no longer so afraid of being naked in front of other people. They were, after all, anonymous. The feeling apparently was mutual, as more people started tipping, some up to five dollars at once, and by the time messages like You almost there? and Please cum now started rolling in, Joshua was more than happy to oblige.

            Later that night, as he lied in bed, he started to feel ashamed of himself. What on earth had possessed him to masturbate online for strangers? Had Jerry really talked him into it that easily? Some part of it nagged at him, the part that told him it was somehow immoral or disgusting. He thought about all the people watching, presumably masturbating as well. It made him ill. But deep down, underneath the heavy feeling in his gut, was the truth he didn’t want to acknowledge but could not ignore: that he had enjoyed it. That something about the whole thing had turned him on immensely. In fact, he’d never felt anything quite like it.

            That was when Jerry had knocked on the door. He came in and sat down on the bed, and told Joshua he had made over sixty dollars. That was the most any single person had made in one sitting, even Ollie, who, Jerry said, was his most popular “model.” Then he dropped a twenty dollar bill on the bed and said, “Congratulations. You earned it,” and got up and left.

            Joshua hadn’t mentioned any of this at the clinic when he got tested. He didn’t mention the webcam, Jerry, the money. He didn’t talk about the ensuing eighteen months and how he became the most popular and most demanded model on Jerry’s site. Nor did he bother to bring up the countless times he’d gotten on camera and jerked off for anonymous perverts’ pleasure, or how Brent or Ollie or sometimes both would join in, all of them, together, sitting side by side, completely naked; or Jerry, who had taken it upon himself to wait in the wings and watch and intervene when he felt like changing the show up to draw in more tips. And he most definitely did not say anything about how the wealth of the household had increased almost threefold, their combined efforts bringing in over twelve hundred each month. How he had been living the dream: minimal work, maximum play. The parties, the drinking, the endless amounts of junk food and video games, Jerry’s ceaseless generosity. After he got a part-time job bagging groceries, his life had become so repetitive that, as he sat there in the white room on the uncomfortable bed with the plastic paper on it answering questions about his sexual history, he could barely recall any individual moment from it.

            “How many sexual partners have you had in the past year?”

            Joshua had thought about the question and nearly turned red. True enough, he had met a girl at the Safeway and they had slept together a few times, nothing serious. But he had always used a condom, she insisted on it. “Two,” he said.

            “Were they male or female?” The black woman looked at him plainly, but he thought she seemed almost benevolent, non-judgmental.

            “Both.”

            “Both from the United States?”

            “Yes.”

            At that moment, feeling dirty and ashamed, Joshua remembered the night last week, mid-October, down in the den, doing a show. All three of them, he and Brent and Ollie, were gathered on the bed sitting flush against the wall, computer with webcam perched on the desk beside them. An especially wealthy tipper had been in the audience that night, and they were working Joshua pretty hard.

            You should suck his dick.

            “Who?”

            The one with the goatee.

            Joshua looked at Ollie and laughed. “No way man.”

            I’ll give you twenty-five bucks.

            That’s how it had started. Loath as he had been to admit it, Joshua broke down and told the woman everything that had happened. Finally the tipper had compromised and asked that he just blow Ollie for a second. It’s not that gay lol. Joshua still didn’t want another guy’s dick in his mouth, but the money was hard to pass up. Plus, he knew, Jerry would be upset if he found out he didn’t do it. So Joshua leaned over and lowered his head in between Ollie’s legs. The smell of some cologne-scented shower gel wafted up toward him. At least Ollie didn’t smell bad. And then he did it, quick as he could, he didn’t think it lasted any more than five seconds. After he let go and sat back up, he looked at the computer screen and saw in the chat room cheers and raves from dozens of people, messages pouring in non-stop. He couldn’t keep track of them all.

            “Guess they really enjoyed that,” Ollie said.

            “Shut up,” Joshua replied.

            “Oh come on. It wasn’t that bad.”

            It hadn’t really tasted like anything, Joshua thought. It was just skin, basically. No different than sucking on a finger. If you didn’t think too hard about what the skin was attached to. “Yeah, I guess. And we got some decent money.”

            But the tipper wasn’t finished. After the commotion had died down, they piped back up. So what’d you think?

            Joshua shrugged.

            How about 35 for a bj

            Ollie almost immediately said, “I’m game.”

            Joshua looked over at Brent, then back to Ollie. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

            “What? Dude,” he leaned over, “think about it. That’s sixty dollars from one guy. Think about all the other people that could get in on this. We could start milking them for all they’re worth.”

            “Yeah, but I don’t want to suck your dick any more.”

            “I won’t take long. I promise.”

            “Dude, I’m not gay.”

            “Neither am I. I’m just saying. Think about it.”

            Joshua looked back at the chat window. He hoped no one could hear what they said. That’s when the next message came in.

            Fifty?

            Joshua tried to hide his surprise. He hesitated for about ten seconds, several thoughts running through his head at once. How had he gotten himself in this situation? He was sitting on a bed in an old man’s house with two other guys, nude, masturbating. He had just put someone else’s genitals in his mouth. Why was he doing this?

            It was just about that time when the person in the chat room threw down the gauntlet. One hundred dollars.

            And that was how it had happened. Joshua had relented at that point, unable to resist the offer. The same greed and excitement that had possessed him from the start took over then, and the rest of the memory was a blur. There were just short fragments that he could recall here and there. He couldn’t say how long it lasted or what it felt like. He remembered Ollie grabbing his hair at one point, bunching it up in his fingers, and how the slight moans coming from Ollie frightened him. He remembered thinking that Brent was seeing all this and somehow enjoying himself, because it looked like he was arching his back and fondling himself faster. He remembered wondering briefly about the nature of sexuality, how fluid it might be. But mostly Joshua remembered how, at some point during those interminable moments, he had suddenly realized he was not where he wanted to be in life.

            And then Ollie ejaculated.

            Now, as he stood outside the clinic, staring at the building’s brown façade, Joshua knew what his problem was. It wasn’t the repugnant discharge that had been leaking out of his penis, or the fact that the clinic had called him back this morning to tell him his test results were in and that he should come back to the office as soon as possible. No, the problem was that he had lost control of his life. He felt like his decisions were no longer his own, that his impulses and desires were being modulated by some outside force. He had relinquished the authority he had over his own body. The message couldn’t have been clearer to him now if it had been written in the clouds: he was a prostitute.

            It was Jerry. Jerry had done this to him, had turned him into something he could not accept. That fucking pervert. That gross old faggot. What kind of man just takes in stray boys and turns them out like that? Joshua had the distinct feeling that all along Jerry was having his cake and eating it too: the pleasure of the boys in his home, the sexual gratification, and the ability to profit from it immensely. And how? He had brainwashed them. He had brainwashed Joshua into thinking he was in control when he wasn’t, that the money was his when it wasn’t. A rage began to build up inside him. It was Jerry.

            Well, not anymore. A cool Autumn breeze brushed across Joshua’s face, and a small rash of gooseflesh appeared below his neck. Winter was coming, it was now or never. He had to get out. The duffel bag with his money sat in his closet back at the house, all the cash he had managed to save from Safeway and the endless sex shows. There was just one last thing he needed to take care of.

            Joshua tried not to feel embarrassed as he entered the waiting room and approached the check-in counter. Old blue pleather chairs lined the walls, their cushions torn with white tufts of stuffing visible underneath. The patrons were mostly around his age, as far as he could tell, a cultural melting pot of anxious and bored faces.

            “How may I help you?”

            “Hi, I’m here for my follow-up,” Joshua said.

            The receptionist turned to her computer screen. “Name?”

            “Joshua Carlisle.”

            “Date of birth?”

            “Eight twenty-eight ninety-four.”

            “Thank you. All right, we should see you shortly.”

            About ten minutes later he consulted with a doctor. It was as Joshua had feared. He had gonorrhea. Now his anger was not only directed at Jerry but Ollie as well. Ollie could have at least warned him before he fired off, and even though Joshua had tried to spit it out, he must have swallowed some.

            You should suck his dick.

            The words reverberated in his mind like a flashing neon sign. Now he realized he had no one to blame but himself. Ollie hadn’t forced it on him, Jerry hadn’t ordered him to do it. Joshua began to turn his feelings inward, shame and regret building up inside him. He felt like a volcano about to erupt.

            “Luckily, these things are remarkably easy to treat. The only bad news is we can’t do that here. I highly recommend you see your primary doctor, he’ll be able to give you an injection of ceftriaxone on-site. This sort of thing frequently comes paired with chlamydia, so to be on the safe side you should probably get a script for some Zithromax as well.”

            “What if I don’t have a primary doctor?”

            Joshua could see the doctor, his buzz-cut black hair and dark eyes peering at him over round glasses. He looked young. “Well, Planned Parenthood is always an option. There just so happens to be a facility downtown, not too far from here. I forget the address, let me pull it up real quick.”

            Joshua sighed. “That’s fine. How much will that cost?”

            “Depends, do you have insurance?”

            “No.”

            “Hmm…”

            “Nevermind,” Joshua said. “I’ll be all right. Thanks doc.”

            “No problem. Now, it should go without saying, you may want to inform any recent partners you’ve been with…”

            “Right, I’ll get right on that.” 

            Joshua dialed the number for Planned Parenthood as he walked back home, the sky overhead turning overcast and grey. It was shortly after 1:00 PM. If he hurried, he could make the 1:25 bus then catch the 16 back, but it was cutting it close. Luckily, the office said they could see him that afternoon.

            Joshua jogged the last block back to Jerry’s and didn’t stop until he was in the door and heading down the hallway for his room. He opened the closet door, breathing heavily, and rummaged around in the large blue bag sitting on the floor, pushing aside toiletries and games and DVDs until he found the wad of cash. He saw the shirts and jeans hanging above him and briefly thought about how he was going to need to pack them when Brent popped his head through the door.

            “Yo, Josh. What’s goin’ on?”

            “Nothin’, just some stuff I gotta do. In a hurry,” Joshua said, breathing hard.

            “Whoa. Where’d you get all that money?” Brent suddenly stood behind him, peering over his shoulder.

            “It’s mine. I earned it.”

            “Yeah, but…damn. What is it all doing in your closet? You sure you didn’t rob a bank?”

            “No Brent.” Joshua stood up and thought for a second as he shoved five fifty-dollar bills in his pocket. “I mean, yeah. I’m sure. Christ. I’m a little distracted right now, okay?” He shouldered his way past Brent and started to head back out.

            “You mind telling me what’s going on?”

            Joshua whirled around. “I’m leaving. Tonight. I’m taking my money and I’m leaving this place. I can’t take it anymore.”

            “What do you mean you’re leaving?”

            “Exactly what I said, Brent. Can’t you see what he’s doing to us? To you? Do you honestly like living this way?”

            “I do actually,” Brent said as he took a step back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’ve got it easy here.”

            “Well, good for you then. But I’m not staying. I don’t need this place.”

            “Jerry’s gonna be pretty upset. He really likes you.”

            Joshua laughed. “I could give a fuck less what Jerry thinks. And I doubt he really gives a shit about me, or you for that matter. Anyway, I don’t have time to stick around and chat. I have errands to run.”

            Joshua made it to the bus stop with two minutes to spare. Along the way he had time to think. Surrounding him was the vast concrete jungle, a grid of worn sidewalks framed by old brick buildings, the colors faded, and towering apartment complexes that made up downtown Indianapolis, structures that looked as nondescript and blank on the outside as a prison, or what Joshua imagined a prison looked like. He had no idea why anyone would want to live here. Coming here had been a mistake, he realized now. Moving in with Jerry had just been trading one demon for another. For the longest time, Joshua had felt helpless. Nearly sure that he couldn’t make it on his own, and that Jerry was his guardian angel. His saving grace. Now he realized he didn’t need anyone else. He was going to make it just fine by himself. I’ve outgrown him, he thought. I’ve outgrown all of this. Things would be different in Chicago. He’d find an apartment all by himself, get a new job. Start supporting himself. Maybe he’d even go to college. Were there any decent schools in Chicago? Joshua didn’t know. But it didn’t matter, he let his mind run wild with possibilities.

            Planned Parenthood took almost forty-five minutes by Joshua’s count to finish his intake and get him in to see a physician. The waiting room bizarrely reminded him of the one at the STD clinic, same awful chairs and anxious faces, except the majority of them this time were female. He tried to imagine what some of these girls’ lives were like. One sitting across from him had amazing green eyes and auburn hair. When she turned her head to the left, he saw her smile and, Joshua thought, she almost looked like Mary Jane Watson. Maybe she had a happy life. Maybe her and Peter were doing just fine, even though he was a busy guy and had so many responsibilities. She probably did a good job looking after him, since she didn’t need anyone to look after her. No, not her, she was strong and independent. Face it tiger, you just hit the jackpot.

            A nurse ended up giving Joshua an injection, just like the doctor had said they would, right in his ass. He had to unbutton his jeans and bend over, exposing one cheek, then she swabbed the area and poked him and he was good to go. Then the physician came in and wrote him a prescription for Zithromax, five pills, take one a day, you’ll be right as rain.

            And just like that, Joshua was on his way to the pharmacy to fill the script. It ended up costing him more than he had expected, nearly depleting the entire $250 he’d had in his pocket, but he didn’t let it dampen his spirits. He felt confident he still had enough money to make it up north and find his footing. This was just one hurdle he had to get over, now he only had one left. He decided to stop and eat an early dinner at McDonald’s, filling his stomach in case he didn’t get another chance to put anything in it until he was out of the city.

            It was time to get out of Dodge.

            He got home, pill bottle shoved in his back pocket, and swiftly made tracks for the den, where he got on the computer and looked at bus fares. There was a Greyhound leaving Indianapolis outbound to Chicago at 10:15 PM. Joshua looked at the clock. Quarter past six. For a second Joshua debated whether he would stay and wait or just head to the station now. In the end, he realized he didn’t want to stay in Jerry’s house one second longer. He decided to grab a paperback novel to pass the time, and went to his room to start packing his clothes.

            And found Jerry, Ollie, and Brent all sitting on his bed.

            “Oh, hey Joshua. Glad you’re here. We were just talking about you,” Jerry said, smiling. He patted the mattress. “Take a seat.”

            “No, thanks. I’ll stand,” Joshua said. He looked at the closet, and saw the bag sitting right where he’d left it. He hoped this wouldn’t take long. As soon as he explained himself, he would be on his way, and that’s all there was to it.

            “Brent said you were leaving,” Ollie said.

            Something about the way they looked at him made Joshua slightly nervous, but at this point he didn’t think anything could deter him. They couldn’t guilt trip him into staying, not after the embarrassment he’d suffered, the anger he felt. “That’s right. I don’t want to live here anymore. Sorry this is coming with such short notice.”

            “Don’t you think we should talk about it first?” Jerry asked.

            “There’s nothing to talk about,” Joshua said. “I just don’t feel like staying.”

            “Are you not happy here?”

            Joshua debated how to answer this for a second. Did he want to tell them about getting the drip? Did he want to reveal just how much he had come to resent them? “No. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

            “But you were so good at it.”

            “At what, being your whore?”

            They all stared.

            “Yeah, I’m on to you Jerry. I don’t like what you do here. I don’t like being a part of it. And I’m finished. You two can go on satisfying this piece of shit all you want, but count me out. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Joshua marched to the closet and picked up his bag.

            “And how do you plan on leaving?” Jerry asked.

            “With the money I’ve saved.”

            “You mean this money?” Jerry pulled a roll of bills out of his pocket.

            Joshua looked at Ollie and Brent, who were both smiling. He felt his face get as hot as his insides. “Give me that. Now.”

            “And if I don’t?”

            The tone in Jerry’s voice was so collected that it threw Joshua off balance. He swallowed hard. “Then I’ll beat the shit out of you and take it from you. Now. Give me my money.”

            “You and what army?” Ollie said. He stood up off the bed, then Brent quickly followed suit.

            Joshua breathed in, out, and let his anger subside. “This is ridiculous. Fine, then I’ll call the cops.”

            “What are you going to tell them?” Brent asked.

            “That we stole your money?” Jerry asked.

            “Our word against yours,” Ollie said. “We’ll see how quickly that gets sorted out.”

            “Are you fucking serious right now?” Joshua said. “Give me a break. I’m not playing this game.”

            “You know what, I think I know how to settle this,” Jerry said, and before Joshua could even guess what was happening, Jerry suddenly had a Zippo lighter in his hand and had fanned out the bills, which were quickly catching fire.

            Joshua could have sworn he felt his heart hit his stomach, and he opened his mouth to protest but no sound came out. His eyes quickly began to fill up and his vision got blurry, he could barely see but he lunged forward anyway, only to feel himself collide with a mighty force that shoved him back, back, against the wall, where he was pinned, then all of the air left his lungs and he tried to suck it back in, he could still see Jerry, standing now, dropping smoldering notes on the ground, and he thrashed against Ollie’s weight but then Brent was there too, and together their strength was far too much, Joshua realized he was not going to escape, he couldn’t stop his life savings from going up in flames, and that’s when he found his air, he sucked in as much as he could and screamed.

            Joshua looked up from the floor, drying his eyes, and saw Jerry still standing in his room, staring at him. Brent and Ollie were gone. He had cried so hard, he didn’t think he had anything left inside him. It’s almost as if, he thought, he had a finite supply of emotions that he had just exhausted. A strange feeling of numbness swept over him. He looked at the destroyed ruins of his life lying on the carpet and slowly regained control of his breathing.

“The way I see it,” Jerry finally spoke, “you have two options. You can stay here, and work for me. Or, you can take your chances out there. I hear it’s supposed to start getting cold soon. Choice is yours.” And then he walked out of the room.

            Joshua looked out the window. The sun had gone down. It was nighttime. He looked at the doorway. There was a small golden cone of light cast by the lamp in the hall. Then, for some reason he could not fathom, he thought of the girl with auburn hair at the Planned Parenthood clinic. I wonder if she’s happy.