Page 13 of Repentance and Absolution
I raised my eyebrows. “Well—”
He pointed at me with his fork. “Don’t answer that.”
I laughed, content with my belly full, knowing Oscar was happy and fed, and that we seemed at the beginning of a promising adventure. Fixing up Oscar’s late uncle’s place was an overwhelming undertaking, but today it felt manageable and like we were fated to it.
When Henry brought our bill, I asked about the best place in town to get a bath.
“The Front Street Hotel offers a hot bath for a dollar. And they have a fancy bath for one-fifty, if you want fresher soap and softer towels.” He smiled. “I recommend that one. Nothing feels better than a fluffy towel once you’ve cleaned up.”
“I reckon we can indulge ourselves. We’re havin’ a special day in town. Oscar just got a new horse, and we’ve put in a lot of work on the homestead.”
I left money on the table to cover our meal and a tip for Henry.
Walking next to me on our way to the hotel, Oscar looked so untroubled that it made my heart sing. I liked to see him that way. Doubtless, that came from my memories of finding him starving on the streets of Dawson City. He’d been trying to make money in questionable ways, and I’d taken pity on him and given him a meal he could hardly enjoy because his stomach was so shrunk in on itself. Then I’d brought him up to my hotel room, and he’d washed all the stink and dirt off. I remembered how quiet he’d been, sitting there in the cooling water, and how long it had taken me to realize he was crying.
My initial interest in Oscar had been honorable and charitable. At least, I liked to think so. That had changed upon waking up the next morning with his mouth on my cock, which had shocked and confused me but had also pleased me in a way I’d never contemplated.
There had been no turning back from that moment, and Oscar and I had become more and more intimate as time had gone on and fate had thrown us together.
An imposing structure at the north end of the street facing the harbor, The Front Street Hotel served a diverse clientele. This was where Oscar and I had stayed on our arrival at Port Essington. The rooms were affordable and decent, clean, and the hotel offered upgrades for the more particular traveler, such as the luxury bath with fine soap and soft towel that Henry had explained. We paid for two of those, and Oscar made a point not to remark or look at me with regret when we had to go into separate rooms.
T’was pleasant to be alone for a hot bath and simply let my mind wander as I washed my hair and body and soaked for a spell. The soap I was given smelled of lemon and sandalwood and lathered up real good. I held it between my palms like t’was a cherished keepsake, and, honest to God, I wanted to wrap it up and take it home. But I resisted that impulse in the interests of not alienating the people who worked there.
When I’d finished and rinsed the suds off, I stepped out onto the mat and wrapped myself in the towel I’d been provided. T’was plush, and the proprietor had said t’was made from the finest cotton. I’d only ever paid for the most rudimentary of services in the past. This was a new experience, and I vowed then and there we would spend the money on such luxury every now and then. And one of the must-haves for the new house would be a space where we could keep a copper tub, so we could bathe in the comfort of our own home. Now that would be living the high life!
We’d brought our fresh union suits and clean clothes to put on after the bath. There was no point spending a fortune to bathe then putting on your soiled clothes again.
Renewed and refreshed, I was ready to take on the world when I stepped into the parlor of the hotel. Oscar sat there waiting for me with an indulgent look on his face. He raised his eyes.
“What?” I asked.
He spoke with a lackadaisical air while drifting his gaze o’er my body. “What the hell were you doin’ in that bath, Jimmy?”
I glanced at the gentleman behind the desk in the next room, but he was busy with some paperwork and not paying attention.
I turned back to Oscar, giving him a stern look. We needed to be cautious.
“I was enjoyin’ it. Did you even wash yourself properly? Or did you just dip yourself in and climb out without usin’ the soap we paid so much money for?”
Oscar stood up and ran his fingers through his damp hair. “As you can see for yourself, I’ve washed my hair. The rest you’ll just have to take my word on.”
Until we get home, I thought as I forced my face to stay straight.
Oscar lifted his chin as if I were an annoying friend to question him on his cleanliness. Kid could act when he wanted to.
“Fine. Anyhow, I’m ready now. We should go to the store and get those things on our list.”
“Then we can go and get my horse?” Oscar gushed, reverting to his regular demeanor.
I sighed, nodding. “Then we can go and get your horse.”
* * * *
We found everything we needed at the general store. In a moment of impulse, I asked the shopkeeper if they happened to have any lemon soap?
“As a matter of fact, we do. The Front Street Hotel has a standing order for this one,” he said, holding up a yellow bar with bits of solid lemon rind in it, exactly like the one I’d used. It cost dear for a bar of soap, but I figured we deserved a bit of luxury, especially making do with such primitive living arrangements. If a simple bar of soap could make our evenings more pleasant, then I reckoned t’was worth the price.
“That’s it. I’ll take one of those, please.”
