By: Julian Grant

 It was one of those hot summer nights in August when the heat never seems to let up, especially in Los Angeles. It was one in the morning and I looked in exasperation at the boxes I still needed to unpack. The move to this home was fraught with issues including a prolonged escrow and ongoing repairs. What did I expect from an older house? I always wanted one in the Spanish style and boy did I get one. It was built in 1927 and had all the character touches you would expect. Best yet, it was nestled in the Lake Hollywood community that is rich with old “Tinsletown” history.

            This move was good for me. Brian and I had just broken up after 13 years together and it was I who chose to move out and let him keep our Brentwood condo. New area, fresh start. Hey, perhaps I will meet someone. I saw a couple of Pride flags when I was house hunting in the area back in June. Although, probably not wise to hook up with a local next door. The very notion made me laugh.

            Next door lived Kathy Rose who is well over 80, has lived in this neighborhood since the early 1960’s and makes it her life goal to greet any new person to give them the what’s what. “Garbage day is Thursday and you can’t put your barrels out more than 24 hours before”, was the first thing she said to me before I could even tell her my name was David.

            So here I am on a Saturday night unpacking boxes when I would rather be at my favorite bar in Silverlake. To make the time more pleasant, I played some cool new music from my favorite band of the moment The Lemon Twigs as I prepared to rip into the box marked linens and stuff. What exactly did I mean by stuff?

            Not wanting to tax my already ancient air conditioner I opened the windows in the living room. The sweet smell of Gardenias filled the air. Gardenias are my favorite flower and, some Hollywood trivia for you, it was also Elizabeth Taylor’s favorite as well. I fashioned myself a show-biz expert since I was a teen. So it seems a natural fit that I am the Chief Film Archivist at the Motion Picture Academy Library. That was one of the irritants Brian had with me; my endless devotion to old movies.

            He would always complain that the only cable channel I knew was Turner Classic Movies. “You were born at the wrong time”, he would constantly tell me. True, except for modern music, I would rather entertain myself with something that was created long before I showed up. “Those were true movie stars back then!”, I would always tell him. “I will take Gary Cooper over Matt Damon any day.” Perhaps I will hit it off with Kathy. She was born in the 30’s and I act as if I was as well.

            Alright, I thought, I’d say that’s enough unpacking for one day. Sunday I will finish it off. I decided to keep the windows open as I collapsed on the couch since my new bed wasn’t due to arrive for another couple of days. Have you ever felt so tired yet you couldn’t get to sleep because your mind was racing with so many thoughts? That was me as I stared at the ceiling and noticed, for the first time, a massive crack that will need to be addressed before the next earthquake.

            Closing my eyes and trying to shut off my brain started to work as I felt myself begin to drift off to sleep. Suddenly I heard a burst of laughter as if someone’s joke went over brilliantly. I sat up and cocked my head to the direction where it was coming from. I thought it odd that I hadn’t heard anything before; maybe I was too preoccupied with my unpacking to notice. Listening carefully, I realized that a party was going on. I wondered, what old lady Kathy was thinking now? Would I soon hear the cops? She seemed like the type who would call and complain about noisy neighbors even on a Saturday night in the summer.

            The laughter from the party was accompanied by the clinking of glasses and a lot of old school 60’s music. The Mamas And The Papas were soon followed by The Turtles. I always liked their song “Happy Together” but now it became annoying as it began to be played over and over. This must have been very funny to the party people because their laughter only grew more boisterous with every new play.

            Oh what the hell, I thought, how about a little nighttime walk? Perhaps that will exhaust me more plus I can satisfy my curiosity over this party that sounds like a total rager. Just who are these annoying hipsters who have a great vinyl collection but horrible timing when it comes to my sleep? I pictured them in my head; lots of man buns, facial hair and a whole lot of trying too hard. Ironically, I decided to be more presentable just in case I was spotted. Something about me always wants to impress others even if they are total strangers.

            The moment I stepped foot outside I saw Kathy standing by her front door. “They’re at it again!”, she bellowed. “Are you calling the cops?”, I thought I’d ask hoping in some small way that she would. This only brought a chuckle from her. “They already think I’m nuts,” she replied as she walked back in her house. What did she mean by that? The thought was fleeting as I started to walk towards the sidewalk. I determined that the party was happening around the corner. So I went on my way feeling like nosy Mrs. Kravitz from “Bewitched”, another old show Brian detested.

            As I rounded the corner I saw lights coming from a house that was set back a ways. A burst of laughter echoed from inside. Oddly, I noticed, there was not a single car parked outside. Perhaps they all took a party bus to get here or, knowing that they are probably hipsters, rode their cruising bikes. I thought, what a cliche!

            I stood outside the house debating what I should do next. Staring straight ahead I noticed a “For Sale” sign on the front lawn and I immediately remembered the place. I saw the listing on-line during my house hunting but it was way out of my price range. I noticed something else as I stood in front of the house, shadows moving about inside. Were these hipsters squatting or is this the former owner throwing one last bash? Well, I thought, no time like the present to find out. I just can’t be a dick, first impressions after all. I strode up to the front door and gave it a light knock. No answer. A second knock was much louder and this time brought a response.

            Opening the door was a man with a Lone Ranger style face mask. Even with the mask, I could tell there was a whole lot of handsome underneath. Bright blue eyes, big smile, chiseled chin and thick wavy blonde hair. There was something about him that looked oddly familiar. Where have I seen him before, a gay club perhaps? I became mesmerized by his eyes as I quietly said, “I don’t mean to intrude.” His big smile got even bigger as he replied, “Hey the more the merrier!” His expression then turned serious as he asked, “You’re not a cop are you?” I was taken aback by this question, “No, I’m not.” He had more questions, “Gossip Columnist? Reporter? Photographer? Any or all of the above?” I shook my head, “None of those, I’m a film librarian.” He then leaned close to my right ear and whispered, “This is party is for a certain type of gentleman, do you catch my drift?” Knowing exactly what he meant I gave him a smile and said, “I certainly do and I’m that type of gentleman.” In full voice he replied, “Then come on in, grab yourself a mask and make yourself at home. The booze is flowing!”

            As I meandered my way through the crowded living room two things struck me: everyone looked liked they were dressed for some 60’s retro party and the crowd was virtually all men. There was, however, one woman in the bunch. She was perched on a throne like chair as a throng of adoring men sat at her feet. It was hard to make out her features with all the cigarette smoke that filled the air but I did quickly notice she wasn’t wearing a mask. She was in the middle of a highly animated story that she would occasionally punctuate with a loud cackle. Moving closer she became easily recognizable. I tapped a man’s shoulder in front of me and asked, “Who’s the drag queen dressed as Elizabeth Taylor?” This brought instant amusement to his face as he turned and yelled out, “Hey, this guy thinks you’re a female impersonator!” A quiet descended upon the room that lasted for what seemed like an eternity until the woman gave out another loud cackle that brought the room to a fit of laughter.

            Embarrassed, I retreated to a makeshift wet bar in the kitchen manned by a Bartender and asked for a lite beer. “Lite?”, the Bartender shouted back, “all our booze is heavy fella.” He proceeded to pour a generous amount of whiskey in a glass, “Here, enjoy!” I was immediately pushed aside by a couple of men who looked like they have made frequent trips to this wet bar. I decided to stand, with my back against the living room wall, and just take in the scene.

            “Are you having a good time?” My attention was jolted by the man asking this question. And what a man. Built solidly with broad shoulders and hands the size of a catcher’s mitt. Tongue tied I replied, “Um, yeah sure. My name is David.” This handsome one jutted out his hand, “You can call me Roy.” Before I could say anything back, he was suddenly whisked around and became lost in the crowd.

            For the next hour or so I observed: a conga line and various other dances that seemed very old school. I thought, boy, this bunch is dedicated to the period. I also noticed that a lot of the guys were going into a bedroom. I watched as one by one the door would open and a man would walk in. With each brief glimpse inside I could see the room was bathed in a red glow. Okay, I thought as I slugged down my drink, let’s see what all the fuss is about. I walked towards the door right as it quickly swung open.

            A disheveled looking man hurried out and made a bee-line past me. My curiosity grew even more as I reached for the knob. I opened the door wider to find a group of men who not only took off their masks but also their clothes. They were slithering and moaning on this large bed. Oral sex, anal sex, it was all right there in front of me. I thought, holy crap! This is an orgy! I have never been to one but I always wondered if I would be brave enough to take part.

            My answer quickly came as I, without even thinking, started to back out of the room and quickly closed the door. I thought, Just what the hell am I doing here? This is no way to begin a neighborhood reputation! Knowing I had a lot of unpacking to do in just mere hours I made a hasty exit outside.

            The walk home was a lot quicker than the one to the party. I quickly dashed into my new home and closed the door behind me. “Holy shit!” I said this loud enough that I wouldn’t be surprised if Kathy could hear me next door. The booze I drank started to have a sedative affect on me and I planted face first on the couch.

            “Rise and shine!” This jolted me out of my sleep as the morning sun drenched my eyes with a very unwelcoming glare. As I squinted I could make out Kathy poking her head in my still opened window. She added, “Looks like you have your work cut out for you. Well, I will leave you be.” I quickly got up and ran to the window, “Wait! I have to tell you, I went to that party and there was a lot of weird stuff going on.” I don’t know why I was being so forthcoming with her, I guess I had to tell someone and she seemed like the perfect person.

            An odd smile crossed her face. She stared at me for a moment before she finally spoke, “Well, I’m not one to judge but I have put up with that noise every Saturday night during summer when the house is between owners.” I was quickly taken aback as I replied, “What do you mean between owners? Whose party was that?” I was hoping for a clear answer but instead all I got out of her was, “Oh honey, you would never believe me.”

            That whole week I couldn’t get the party out of my mind. I resolved that when Saturday night came I would go again but this time I would be more adventurous. That next Saturday afternoon I took a long nap on my new bed to stay refreshed for what I hoped would be a very interesting evening around the corner. As night came, I listened for any festive signs. After all, I didn’t want to show up too early. Finally, around one in the morning, I started to hear the familiar sounds of mid 60’s pop. I quickly donned a mask I had bought earlier in the week at Party City just for this occasion. As I walked outside, I noticed Kathy standing, once again, by her house. I immediately felt embarrassed as I shyly walked past her. I meekly muttered, “Just going for a night walk.” “Ha!”, she cried out, “you can’t fool me!”

            As I approached the house I noticed it was exactly as it seemed the week before with the same shadows in the window. My forceful knock was greeted by the same blonde. He immediately recognized me, “Welcome back! We hoped you’d come!” He patted me hard against the back as I made my way to the kitchen wet bar. I asked for a whiskey and took my place against the wall. I eyed the bedroom door and watched as more and more men made their way inside including that guy Roy who I met before. Alright, I thought, here it goes. I sat my now finished drink on a table and went toward the bedroom. I opened the door and saw the same sexy scene that shocked me the last time. I stepped in and closed the door. Well, I thought, this is progress.

            I stood there and watched, what was pretty much, a live porn show. I could feel my cock start to stiffen. I reached down to grab it only to find another hand had beaten me to it. I looked to my right and recognized it was Roy grabbing me but, with his mask off, he looked exactly like… I couldn’t believe my eyes as I realized, Roy is the spitting image of Rock Hudson! I thought, how could this be? Rock has been dead for over 30 years plus this man is no older than 40. Rock didn’t have a son, what the fuck was in that drink? As these thoughts raced through my head I remembered that Rock’s real name was Roy which made the situation even more bizarre!

            By this time his hand was no longer on my cock but instead he dropped to his knees, unzipped my fly and began to devour me with slow, wet, steady strokes. I hadn’t had sex since Brian and I split so the sensation was overwhelming. I began to close my eyes as a now familiar voice cried out, “Let me have a taste!” I opened my eyes to discover the same blonde who greeted me at the door. This time, he had his mask off which revealed his true identity; the late Tab Hunter! Tab dropped to his knees and he and Rock started to take turns blowing me. Man, I thought, if only Brian could see me now. He would call this the ultimate TCM wet dream. I found myself accepting the scene before me as if it made total sense. There was something about being in that house, in that room, with these two matinee idols sucking me off that somehow it all seemed totally plausible. Rock and Tab were known to be gay in their tight inner circles but they were 100% in the closet to the outside world for fear of losing their Hollywood careers. I wondered, had I stumbled upon a supernatural rerun of one of their parties? This thought enticed me all the more and I couldn’t hold back any longer as I climaxed all over them. I could only muster an “I’m sorry” as I zipped up and quickly left the room in embarrassment.

            Heading into the living room I bumped into that same lone woman at the party. “Where are you going dear?”, she asked. I looked deep into her violet eyes and realized who I was face to face with. I stammered, “My God, you really are…” She quickly cut me off and said, “Don’t you dare call me Liz. The name’s Elizabeth.” She eased the tension with a sharp cackle and then quickly became lost in a sea of worshiping gay men. As I observed the scene with fresh eyes I wondered if everyone here was dead? The very thought and what happened in the bedroom made me feel woozy. I stumbled outside and this time ran as fast as I could back home.

            The next morning I didn’t dare tell Kathy although a part of me wanted to know what she knew as a long time resident of the neighborhood. Instead, I did the 21st century way of snooping; I Googled the address of the party house. My search revealed that the house had various owners in the last few decades but during the 60’s it was the scene of some infamous show-biz parties where Homosexual acts were rumored to have occurred every Saturday night during the summer. Well, I’ll be damned, I thought, they all returned to keep the party going.

            The next Saturday night I was ready to go full on board with whatever was going down. I thought, here was my opportunity to speak to these movie legends. I even picked a Gardenia blossom to give to Elizabeth. I couldn’t wait to tell her that we both share the same favorite flower. I waited all night to hear any signs of a party but nothing came.

            The morning sun confirmed that there was no party the night before. I ventured out and headed for the house. A moving truck was parked outside as furniture was being unloaded. I walked up close and watched as Movers brought stuff inside. A man came from around the back of the house and waved to me. He walked over and extended a hand, “Hi, I’m Ted, just moving in today.” I introduced myself and immediately Ted began to talk about how excited he was to buy this house. With a sly smile he leaned in close and said, “I hear this place has some sordid history.” I looked at him and smiled as I replied, “If you only knew.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Julian Grant’s middle school history teacher knew he had a penchant for writing bawdy material when she noticed him penning dirty limericks about the teaching staff in his school notebook. Instead of calling him out on this behavior she nurtured his imaginative mind. This support of his creative endeavors gave young Julian the motivation to pursue writing as a career. Upon graduating from college, he devoted all his energies into writing and, as an out man in the 80’s with a love for old movies, focused many of his stories on gay life in the Hollywood of the past. 

Julian’s short story found in this collection, “The Party Around the Corner”, was inspired when he went house hunting in Los Angeles and was told by a realtor, showing a home, that wild gay parties attended by closeted Hollywood actors in the 50’s and 60’s occurred there. Today, Julian lives in that home and happily continues that erotic tradition!