Color Him Gay. Victor J. Banis
COPYRIGHT INFORMATION
Copyright © 1966, 2007 by Victor J. Banis
Originally published under the name Don Holliday
Published by Wildside Press LLC
www.wildsidebooks.com
FOREWORD TO THE SECOND EDITION
The books in the series, The Man from C.A.M.P., were among the earliest of the many novels I have penned. They were written in the 1960s, and they are very much a part of that exciting era when people of so many different sorts were coming out of so many different closets. Gay people were celebrating in the streets the very same lifestyle that only a few years before had engendered in many of us guilt and shame and fear, ruined large numbers of promising careers and sent many to prison.
These books were a part of my celebration. They were written with tongue very firmly in cheek, in a few days each, with nary a thought of rewrite or polishing up some admittedly amateurish prose. They were never intended to be “literature,” and they are not. They were, however, intended to be fun.
I think they still are.
—Victor J. Banis
July 2006
THE MAN FROM C.A.M.P. CHECKLIST
1. The Man from C.A.M.P.
2. *Color Him Gay
3. The Watercress File
4. The Son Goes Down
5. Gothic Gaye
6. Holiday Gay
7. Rally Round the Fag
8. *The Gay Dogs
9. Blow the Man Down
10. Gay-Safe (not written by Victor Banis)
*=Published by Borgo Press
Associated Titles:
Sex and the Single Gay
The C.A.M.P. Guide to Astrology
The C.A.M.P. Cookbook
CHAPTER ONE
Jackie Holmes smiled over the rim of his glass at the good-looking young redhead in the mirror behind the bar. The redhead smiled back and continued to play kneesies with him.
Definitely encouraging, Jackie thought. He turned slightly on his seat while still maintaining the enjoyable pressure of their legs, and faced the stranger.
“All alone?” he asked to break the ice.
“I was. But I’d just as soon not be,” the redhead said.
Jackie smiled again and studied his neighbor quickly but thoroughly. The redhead was not much taller than his own five feet, nine inches, but with a stockier build. While Jackie was slender and small of build, the young man opposite him displayed, in his jeans and a tight fitting t-shirt, a sculptured and muscular body. The enticing bulge of his jeans made the overall picture even more enticing. Brown eyes twinkled at Jackie from the freckled and young looking face.
“My name’s Jackie” He extended his hand.
“I’m Bob,” the redhead answered, shaking Jackie’s hand firmly.
The evening, Jackie decided, was progressing nicely. He had been in two other bars before this one, all of them gay, and all of them rather quiet. In fact, he had all but decided to call it a night and return home when the sexy redhead had taken a seat beside him at the bar. Now he was not so eager to go home; at least, not by himself.
“Want another drink?” Jackie asked him with a meaningful gaze that managed to ask other questions.
“I don’t really need it,” Bob informed him. His eyes were doing a good job of answering Jackie’s silent questions and the answers were all favorable.
“That’s encouraging.”
“I live just a couple of blocks from here,” Bob explained. “Why don’t you come up for some coffee or something?”
“I’ll accept, on both counts,” Jackie answered. “What’s the address?”
The redhead gave him the address and Jackie committed it efficiently to memory. “I’ll join you there in a couple of minutes,” he said.
He watched as the redhead left the bar. The view from the back was just as interesting. His buttocks were lush spheres of flesh, neither too lean nor too fat, tightly encased in the jeans that did more to reveal the shape of things to come than to conceal. Jackie downed the rest of his drink and, with an expectant tingle in his loins, left the bar a minute later.
The parking lot was in the rear. He circled around the building, entered the comparative darkness of the lot and approached his car. The sound of a scuffle from nearby brought him to a halt.
He paused for a second beside his car. There was a fight in progress, in the narrow space that separated the bar from the neighboring building. By all rights he should investigate and do what he could to straighten things out. On the other hand, there was a sexy young redhead just a few blocks away, waiting for him to arrive.
With a sigh Jackie moved past his car and started for the fight. Business, he reminded himself, before pleasure.
The fight was decidedly a one-sided affair. Of the four people involved, three of them were busily engaging in working over the fourth. For his part the victim was putting up a good fight, if a losing one. Tall and lanky, with what gave the appearance of a long blond fright wig atop his head, he was backed now to the wall, using hands and feet alike to fight off his attackers.
As Jackie paused at the beginning of the narrow passageway, there was a click of metal and the moonlight gleamed on the blade of a knife. It was time, Jackie decided, starting to run, that someone evened out the battle.
The man with the knife heard the sound of his approach and whirled about to face him. Jackie was faster, catching the shadowy figure in half turn. He grabbed for the knife hand, giving the wrist a violent yank that sent the man off balance. A knee to the groin finished the job. The knife fell to the ground as the man doubled in pain.
Someone grabbed Jackie from behind. With lightning speed Jackie fell forward, carrying his attacker up and over to send him flying through the air.
With only one combatant, the blond victim of the attack was faring better. Jackie came toward him, grabbing hold of the remaining antagonist, a burly six-foot figure. The man slipped from his grasp and landed a hard fist on Jackie’s jaw. Staggering backward, Jackie caught the edge of a brick that, if it had landed squarely, would have probably caved in his scalp. As it was, he sank to his knees, dazed momentarily.
The trio of hoods, however, had had enough. They took advantage of the opportunity to break away, disappearing into the parking lot. By the time Jackie had gotten to his feet, a car had roared to life in the lot, and a second later it raced away with a squeal of tires.
He turned instead to the blond, who had been felled also by a parting blow. To his amazement, however, the blond was no longer a blond. The golden mane had been a wig after all and it had been lost in the scuffle.
“Girl, you sure pick them tough,” Jackie said, helping the stranger to his feet.
“Watch how you address me, bloody hell,” the other snapped angrily. “For your information I’m not some blooming pansy.”
It was not a very grateful response from someone who had just been rescued and for a moment Jackie nearly resorted to anger himself. As the young man got to his feet, however, Jackie’s anger was swallowed up in his surprise. Without the covering of the wig, his hair was a cascade of unruly dark locks that tumbled about his face and reached to his shoulders. It would have been impossible for Jackie not to recognize the hair, the large, bright eyes, separated by a long, almost hawk-like nose, and the pouty curve