Sex Tourist Ch. 19-21

Chapter 19.

Paper Dragons and Moral Renewal.

That night, Trevor's mind was troubled, his sleep was disturbed and shallow; his dreams were lucid.

He is sitting in the seat he first took in La Bamba; Allyza is bouncing in his lap. The music is loud, the beer cold and the writhing of her body against his as she engages in animated conversation with her friends is pleasing. Trevor is happy.

The door curtain parts and Jake enters, Trevor remembers, resentfully, that he described Allyza as "a bundle of fun."

As he passes he greets Trevor, "Hi Trev. How are things. I see Allyza's keeping you entertained."

Trevor is annoyed that Jake notices Allyza, but hides it.

He jibes, "Hi Jake. Things are great. Allyza's always 'a bundle of fun.'"

Now Jake addresses Allyza directly, "Well, if Trev doesn't monopolise you all evening, you can always come and play with me."

Trevor clings a little more tightly to Allyza as Jake moves on. To his dismay, Allyza turns her attention to Jake, as Meljoy had, when her customer came into Black Pearl.

Allyza pleads to be released, "He is my regular customer. Is it OK?" she points after Jake.

Trevor feels betrayed, this redefines their relationship, he is just a bar-fine, his happiness evaporates. But Trevor does not want to appear a churl; that would be a humiliating admission of an asymmetry in their relationship.

"Go ahead, keep your customer happy."

Allyza immediately slides out of Trevor's lap and scampers over to Jake. She sits into his lap, and bounces as she had done a few minutes before in Trevor's.

Trevor feels bitter. He sees Allyza's little attentions and expressions of affection in a different light. Now, he watches, humiliated, as Jake proceeds to pull down Allyza's shorts, impale her on his erection and bounce her. The girls on stage applaud; Jake bends her over in front of him and proceeds to ream her. Trevor puts down his drink and is preparing to slink away, when Jake un-impales, zips up and gives Allyza a note.

She scampers back to Trevor and shows him 100 peso, "Look honey, I can buy us barbecue," she hugs and kisses him, and climbs back into his lap.

Trevor suddenly feels happy again. He can see the eyes of the other guys on him, especially the envious eyes of Jake. Other girls cluster around to congratulate her. He feels so grateful she has come back to him, and his ego is so tickled at being envied as he sits with the most desirable girl in the bar. His joy is short lived.

A fearsome figure from his youth appears before him. He looks up, into the angry face, the bottom drops out of his stomach.

"White, you dirty little waste-of-space. Why am I not in the least surprised to find you in a whorehouse? Of all the degenerate brats, I knew you'd end up in a place like this. This is the fate of boys who masturbate; you end up the feeding fodder of prostitutes?"

The sour, humourless eyes of Flynn, his physics master, summon him back fifty years. Trevor's stomach turns queasy, as it had done in his adolescence, as had that of many boys, at the mere sight of Flynn. Guilt and shame permeate his being, not rational guilt and shame, but guilt and shame for its own sake, mediated by his intestines.

This Calvinist lay preacher had taught the boys they were damned, and seeing their every moral failing he persecuted them. He became the headmaster's instrument of discipline and retribution, and Trevor trembled with guilt for unknown offences whenever he was in the class.

He trembles again, and in reflex pushes the immediate occasion of his sin, Allyza, from his lap, to fall in the passage way.

Flynn looms over her, arm raised like an old-time fire-and-brimstone preacher, and starts to shriek, "Damned woman. Devil's harlot. Polluter of the earth. Daughter of Eve, Seducer of Men."

All the biblical clichés of protestant repression vomit out of his snarling mouth, and under this shit-storm of condemnation she slumps, pole-axed by self-righteous venom. He strips her of all pretensions of virtue, all the fig leaves, all the euphemisms, and exposes her as a whore. She begins to cry, bitter tears of shame, accepting his designation as corrupting slut.

But Trevor can see her virtue, her innocence, he sees that the sin lies in Flynn not in her. It is Flynn, not she, who has eaten of the forbidden fruit. Galvanised by his tender feelings for Allyza and the injustice perpetrated against her, he summons the gumption to protect his woman. He sweeps aside his intestinal guilt and his childish fear of Flynn, steps over her, looks into the ranting face and hurls back, "Fuck you. You can fuck off. She's no whore. She loves me and I love her. You're the whore, your mouth is a whore, paid for by your acid God to spread guilt and misery."

Flynn inflates himself and looms higher over Trevor. "You CANNOT speak to me like that BOY. You SHALL NOT speak me like that."

The bubble bursts.

"Boy."

Trevor knows he is not a boy, but a man still fettered by the hand-me-down morals given him in his youth. Flynn is powerless, a paper dragon lacking moral force, vainly invoking the wrath of a personal God, a mantelpiece totem, to mask his impotence. Trevor's childish fear gives way to manly confidence. Flynn is an uninvited annoyance who has overstayed his welcome.

He dismisses him with a polite but peremptory, "Fuck off," then turns his back.

He picks up the sobbing Allyza, cradles her in his arms and consoles her. When he lifts her back onto his lap, Flynn is gone.

"He says I'm a whore," she sobs.

Trevor's heart melts with compassion for her, and his conscience hardens against Flynn and everything he represents.

"Never mind him. It's not for him to judge you. You must be your own judge. But when you do, know I love you, and judge yourself differently. Have you ever done anyone any harm? No. He's an evil and bitter old man, wanting his way with the world, venting his frustration. He's a no-account, with no place in our world."

He regretted ever allowing himself to inherit Flynn's pernicious doctrine.

She stops sobbing and leans on his chest. "You really love me?"

"Yes, I love you."

"I'm not a bad girl?"

"No. You're not a bad girl."

She clings to him. Now calm and mellow, they fall into untroubled sleep.

***

When he rose in the morning, he was new. He had slain a dragon in the night, a paper dragon that had terrorised him for fifty years. He was alone in the world with a moral compass, and the challenge, at sixty years old, to construct his own map. He wanted to construct a his-and-hers map with Allyza - a map for the innocent.

Chapter 20.

Allyza and Email, Customers and Cell-Phones.

Trevor slept in on Saturday, taking a big chunk out of his sleep deficit. After making coffee, he booted his computer then checked his email. Joy! Buried in the spam was a response from Rick's Cafe.

'Hi Trevor,

I am so happy to receive your message. I did not see it bcos I go in my province to visit with my parents bcos my mother is ill but she is fine now. Mama give to me ur postcard and tell me ur email. Trevor November is so long I like to see you soon. Sorry that I pinch you but you make me jealos. Thank you for the airplane I like to fly again when you come back.

When can I speak with you. What is your phone number I will call you from here Rick cafe then you ring back to me. I like to hear ur voice again soon. Tell me when. I wait your answer.

Taker urself. Love u.

Allyza Gettigan (my name)

PS please send me yur photo I like yur picture for remembrance.'

He read it repeatedly, trying to wring out every ounce of meaning. Brief and simple, it was open to much interpretation.

He knew the girls read the names on the email boards outside the internet cafes as they made their way to work, and, if she did not see it, one of her workmates would have, and would have told her. Maybe she had been in the province, but if she was, she may have been on holiday with a customer. Even if she had been busy in Angeles she may have left him on the back burner until she had no immediate business and decided she could spend time encouraging him.

Still, he had registered in her memory and she was saying that she wanted to speak with him. The more he read, the more his desire to be with her was rekindled. After all, he could see that she had pinched him because she was jealous. And, she used the word Love, and love was on his hit-list.

But, what did a bar-girl mean by "Love u". It would be a stock expression to be rolled out when appropriate. Anyway, she had responded; he now knew her full name, and she did want to see him again. That was something to batten on.

He would designate next Saturday for the call, and to encourage her, he would send a photo. Somehow. He could use photos from the office Christmas party, but would need a scanner. By four-o'clock, Trevor had connected a new scanner to his computer, and was experimenting with the software, scanning, cropping and adjusting photos, making himself look as good as possible, then resizing them, as small as possible for transmission. He punched 'Reply' and typed:

'Hi Allyza,

Thanks for your message. I would like to come back tomorrow, but other colleagues have booked up before the summer holidays, and we let the people who are married with kids take leave then, so there are no slots in the vacation planner until autumn. I want to take flying lessons, so I can't come until the end of the rainy season, so it looks like November. I've provisionally booked the weeks beginning 18th, 25th November and 2nd December. I hope you'll be there. Keep yourself free for me. I want to travel somewhere; we can go away from Angeles and have a holiday.

I really want to talk to you, so can you call next Saturday 14th April, the day before Easter Sunday. I'll be at home from Friday 13th to Monday 16th, so you can try at any time on those days, but Saturday is best, if you can call me at 4 in the afternoon Angeles time, you'll catch me when I get up.

Love U 2.

Trevor.

PS: I attach some photos of myself. Would love to see some of you.'

He attached two photos and pressed 'Send.'

All Good Friday he remained at home on the off-chance Allyza would call, then rose at six-o'clock on Saturday morning, just-in-case. Eight-o'clock came and went and the day dragged by as he distracted himself cooking, watching TV and playing on the computer. By ten he gave up and went for a walk to get some fresh air and exercise. By half-past-eleven he was in bed. At three on Easter Sunday morning his sleep was disturbed. He wakened. Had the phone rung, or had he dreamed it was ringing? Sleepy and disorientated he fetched the number and called Rick's Cafe.

"Yes Sir, Allyza is here."

He waited, listening to the familiar background chatter punctuated by shrieks and laughter, then a warm voice came on the line.

"Hello ... Hello"

"Hi Allyza, this is Trevor. How are you?"

He was feeling cold and lethargic, appropriate to the hour, but did his best to sound upbeat.

"Yes, I am fine. How are you? When do you come back? I miss you."

"I am fine and I miss you too. Sorry if I sound a bit flat, but its three in the morning here."

"Oh. Here it is ten in the morning. I am only go home now. Sorree I do not call yesterday but I have my customer."

"Still busy then?" Trevor, suppressing a twinge of jealousy, tried to make the enquiry sound casual.

"Yes. It is the holiday. We have many customers now."

"How is your mother?"

"Now she is fine. She went in the hospital one week, but now she is fine. I send her money for her medicine."

"That's good."

"Trevor, when do you come back?"

"I hope, 17th November."

"November is so long. Why not before? I miss you so much."

"It's not possible."

"I wish you come before Trevor. I do not like to fuck around. I like just one guy, I like to be with you."

Despite the feeling that he was being played, Trevor greedily sucked up the flattering suggestion that he was her first choice.

"We can go away somewhere, travel around a bit," he said.

"Yes. Maybe Boracay. Palawan is nice also."

If she knew these destinations this would not be her first trip with a customer.

"Maybe your province?" suggested Trevor.

"Yes we can visit with my family," enthused Allyza.

"And, what will you be doing today?"

"I go home and change my clothes then I meet with my customer in Kokomos at two."

Trevor's heart jumped at the mention of a customer, but he wanted to know more.

"Where's he from?"

"Germany."

"He's not taking you on holiday?"

"No. He like to go bar-hop and butterfly."

His groin warmed and firmed at the reminder of the free-wheeling world of bar-hops and butterflies.

"How are Romie and Regine?"

"Romie has a boyfriend now, she has a house in Diamond. I visit with her sometimes. Regine is on a trip with her customer until next week."

"It sounds very busy there."

"Yes. Last month I have pay for twenty two bar-fines. It is too much drinking, too much bar-hopping. I am always tired."

Twenty two bar-fines, that shook him.

"It's all that boom-boom making you tired."

"No. It is too much drinking. I like it if my customer do not drink too much. Remember."

Trevor recalled that Allyza had been disappointed by his performance when drunk and had encouraged him to remedy matters when he sobered up.

"I'll remember that, and stick to spring water next time."

"Hahahaha ... then you can give me good boom-boom."

"OK. I'll let you get on. I like to hear from you, so call again soon. Make it a Saturday, and make it about four-o'clock your time."

"OK. Bye-bye. Ta'ker yourself. I love you."

"Love you too. Bye."

Trevor hung-up and flopped back into bed.

For a while he reflected. She had spoken candidly and appeared sincere. Her voice was warm. Over the phone she had pushed all the right buttons. At least he could console himself that she was not rejecting him. She was encouraging, but maybe only in the way that the fisherman encourages the fish. Sweeping away these thoughts, Trevor fell back to sleep.

He slept late on Easter Sunday morning, and on awakening felt happy and content. When he sat to read the papers he noted that it was 15th April. Allyza had said she had twenty-two bar-fines last month, he presumed March. He calculated that between the last and next time he spent a night with her she would have had roughly two-hundred-and-thirty bar-fines, and be five times as experienced as when he first met her.

He was flattered by her popularity, but threatened by it. And, would overwork leave her jaded? Would the edge have been rubbed of her enthusiasm for sex? Or, would she be better at it, more versatile? He had loved her naive enthusiasm and did not want her to lose that. Meanwhile, his sex life was empty while hers was full, each bar-fine affording her the opportunity of a meaningful relationship with another man.

That afternoon he composed another email and dispatched it to Rick's Cafe.

'Hi Allyza,

It was great chatting with you. Sorry if I sounded a bit groggy, you called in the middle of the night. Let me know where you come from, the town and the province, so I can make a plan for our trip. Call again soon.

Love,

Trevor.'

The next few weeks were a big disappointment. He had imagined that, once communication was established, it would be easy and frequent. However, a long silence ensued. A month later the following email arrived.

'Hi Trevor,

How are you. I am OK. Sorry I do not response before. It is hard here. I still wait to see you.

Your friend,

Allyza.'

It was so cursory Trevor wondered why she had bothered to send it. And, she had demoted him to a friend. He ruminated for a day or two, and concluded that he had invested too much hope in a relationship with Allyza. She was his sole investment. She, no doubt, had many suitors to manage, more promising and immediate than he, and more worthy of her attention. While he dangled on her hook, she was bar-hopping and having sex, seeking a relationship, doing all the things he wanted to do.

Hurt by Allyza's neglect, as more weeks passed his infatuation for her gradually soured through envy of her freedom and opportunity. Once more he found himself receptive to the advice of the Horn Dogs whose posts he read on the forums.

One wrote:

'All that, i love you talk, is bullshit. To them your just an ATM to be emptied at their convenience and they give as little as they can get away with in return. Some guys send money for months and lap up the emails saying how much the girl loves them then when they arrive she is in the province or busy with another customer and keeps making excuses. When he finally gets her in his hotel she doesnt come across, no blow-job, no enthusiasm just watching tv or sleeping and always ready with an excuse to leave. Hes sent 30000 and paid 5000 in bar-fines and got a few nights of unsatisfactory sex.

You have to play their game. if you get what you want they get paid. I chose a girl and tell her if i bar-fine her I expect sex on demand and that includes blow-jobs and anal and when I leave I'll give her a 10000 tip, any nonsense and i'll dump her and another girl gets the tip. It works for me. I get a sex doll to do as I please with for 10 days and they still pester me with emails telling me they love me and asking when Im coming back. Its the money they love and the right girl will do anything for it. If you play it right you can do what you want with them, they don't care so long as you make it worth their while.'

Trevor longed for a sex-doll with whom he could catch up after decades of deprivation - and a 10,000 peso tip was affordable. He now fantasised of bar-hopping with his sex-doll, she willing to indulge his every erotic whimsy. In Nifty's she danced naked for him on the back bar stage, and wrapped her blow-job lips around his penis. In the front bar he stripped off her shorts and she enveloped his penis with her elastic ass while he bounced her on his lap to the applause of the dancers. He pictured Boxi and Analyn and Honey, but his settled preference became Allyza. Abandoning hope of her affection, he convinced himself that for 10,000 pesos she would become his obedient sex-doll.

Chapter 21.

Love, Sex and Excitement Refined. Sex Dolls and Remittances.

Trevor opened the drawer in the kitchen sideboard, and took out the sheet of paper that had lain there since the previous December, and read:

'More love.

More sex.

More excitement.'

The list now seemed vague and threadbare, in need of fleshing out, and refining. He knew, in his quest he had been deconstructed and reassembled, and was a refurbished man, with enhanced insight into his detailed needs. Last December, that fading man was fearful, too embarrassable to be honest with himself, first afraid to commit his desires to ink, then blushing to see what he had written.

Today he was recharged, confident and grasping, determined to seize his entitlement, thwarted only by inexperience, but planning to remedy that.

After 'more love', he added - 'cupboard love will do.'

After 'more sex', he added - 'blow-job lips and elastic ass',

And, after 'more excitement' ,he added - 'the buzz of the bars.'

He added an additional paragraph.

'Pay for play, Allyza?Honey?Other?- bar-hop girl.'

The following days he occupied in researching the forums, gleaning information. What the girls will do? How to approach them? How to strike the bargain? How much to offer? How to cut losses? And, how to avoid attachments?

He planned his holiday budget carefully, to ensure he could realise his ambitions - like a true Horn Dog - at reasonable expense.

One morning, another email from Rick's café appeared in his inbox.

'Hi Trevor,

How are you. I hope you are well also all your family. Trevor I have a problem now so I ask please if you can help me. Trevor it is bad the rain now and we do not have customers. Trevor my mother is sick and I need to go look after her but I do not have money bcoz there is no customer. If you can help me I can go in the province and look after her. Can you help me with 5000p please. Send by Western Union.