Title: The Mayor of Oak Street
Author: Vincent Traughber Meis
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: 06/14/2021
Length: 88400
Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, age-gap, coming-of-age, coming out, college, political, friends to lovers, period piece, reunited
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Description
In the 1960s, Midwestern boy and Boy Scout, Nathan delivers newspapers and mows lawns. Nathan uses his cover to move about yards and sneak into the homes of his neighbors, uncovering their secrets.
In high school, one of the local misfits introduces him to diet pills, which help him overcome his shyness. In an amphetamine high, he meets Cindy, who he hopes will steer him along the “morally straight” path of the Boy Scout Oath he swore to.
Nathan is infatuated with a young doctor down the street, Nicholas (Dr. B), who embodies all the things his mother would love him to be. On one of his secret forays in Dr. B’s house, he hides in a closet and witnesses his idol having sex with man while the wife is out of town. Dr. B’s affair leads to tragedy, forcing the doctor to leave town.
At college in New Orleans, Nathan meets a group of rebels and expands his drug use. Marc, a bisexual Cajun charmer becomes Nathan’s first male sexual experience, but promptly leaves town.
Nathan has a chance encounter with Dr. B, who has moved to New Orleans. Dr. B is in a relationship, but still closeted. Frustrated by Dr. B’s cool reaction, Nathan goes on a six-month binge of amphetamines and anonymous sex. On one night of debauchery, he overdoses and ends up in the emergency ward.
Nathan’s near death rallies Dr. B and Nathan’s other friends to force him into rehab. On the way home from work, Nathan witnesses the gruesome aftermath of the 1973 Up Stairs Lounge fire that devastated the gay population of New Orleans. As a result of the fire, Dr. B’s live-in boyfriend leaves town, freeing Dr. B to explore his feelings for Nathan.
The Mayor of Oak Street
Vincent Traughber Meis © 2021
All Rights Reserved
I stumbled, sloshed through mud, and teetered on narrow boards that had been laid across the worst puddles. I spotted a curly-headed boy wrapped in a comforter sitting on the roof of an old, battered pickup. His legs hung over the back of the cab, his bare feet sticking out from his frayed jeans. His feet were so dirty they looked as if they had been painted black.
I stared, forceful and smooth, and got his attention. He looked away and then back at me. He seemed to pat the seat next to him, though I might have imagined it in my state of near oblivion brought on by the amphetamines, countless hits on joints, and swigs of alcohol from bottles passed around. He took a joint from behind his ear and showed it to me. I climbed up on the bed and tried to hoist myself up to the roof. I kept slipping. He grabbed my arm and pulled me up. That moment of having our arms connected, feeling his strength, electricity shot through my muscles and a shiver coursed through me.
He lit the joint. “It’s strong. Be careful.”
We smoked without exchanging a word. No introductions.
After a few tokes, he snubbed it out on the roof of the truck. Someone was playing on stage in the distance, but I didn’t know who. I wanted to ask him, and yet I had forgotten how to form words. The rain stopped, and smoke from a hundred fires rippled the soggy air. I drew a deep breath and was struck by the sensation I was taking in the toxicity of the whole world: acrid smoke, unwashed bodies, overflowing toilets, and gases rising from the swampy earth.
And then I felt the truck begin to move through the crowd, and I shook with fear we might crash into tents, cars, or possibly the stage. I put my hands on either side of me to hold on. The clouds overhead cleared and let the moon shine through, showering us with odd particles of blue light. I thought for a moment I was back at Valley Forge, Eric sitting next to me. I had the strongest desire to throw my arms around him.
I angled my head in millimeter increments and saw it wasn’t Eric, but a stranger, whose eyes flashed on and off like blinkers. Perhaps I had been transported to the original Valley Forge, the ragtag Continental army trying to stay warm around fires, soldiers fighting against the empire, wrapped in blankets and barefoot. The truck started rolling and bucking, filling me with a fear of falling off. I must have produced some primal utterance as this companion or soldier or creature from another time gave me a look of horror. His lips were blue.
“Hey, man. Are you okay?”
“The truck is moving.”
“No, it’s not. The brake is on and everything.”
I thought he was lying to me. “Down. Help me.”
He jumped to the bed of the truck and took my arm as I slid down. I threw off his support and moved to the edge away from him. “You want some water or something? I’ve got some in the truck.”
“No. I need to go.” I had no idea where. I half-crawled, half fell over the side of the truck.
As I lay on the ground, he stood looking down at me with fiery, devil eyes. I grabbed the side of the truck and pulled myself up. I retreated from him, still locked in his trance.
“Hey, wait. Let me help you.”
I staggered in the direction of a group of people around a fire. I tried to run, but I couldn’t. The mud pulled me down with a sucking sound and felt like quicksand. Ahead was a narrow board over a puddle, lit up by the moon like an emergency path to safety. I stepped on the wood, and it became a diving board, bouncing up and down, attempting to toss me in the dark water. Dr. B wouldn’t be there to save me. Halfway across the bouncing board, the world around me turned to melting chocolate, the music warbled in and out, and I stumbled. Blackness.
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Vincent Traughber Meis started writing plays as a child in the Midwest and cajoled his sisters to act in performing them for neighbors. In high school, one of his short stories won a local contest sponsored by the newspaper. After graduating from college, he worked on a number of short stories and began his first novel. In the 1980’s and 90’s he published a number of pieces, mostly travel articles in publications such as, The Advocate, LA Weekly, In Style, and Our World. His travels have inspired his five novels, all set at least partially in foreign countries: Eddie’s Desert Rose (2011), Tio Jorge (2012), and Down in Cuba (2013), Deluge (2016) and Four Calling Burds (2019). Tio Jorge received a Rainbow Award in the category of Bisexual Fiction in 2012. Down in Cuba received two Rainbow Awards in 2013. Recently stories have been published in three collections: WITH:New Gay Fiction, Best Gay Erotica Vol 1 and Best Gay Erotica Vol 4. He lives in San Leandro, CA with his husband.