1950: Senate investigation chaired by Clyde R. Hoey states that “It is generally believed that those who engage in overt acts of perversion lack the emotional stability of normal persons”. All intelligence agencies affiliated with the United States of America were in consensus about sex perverts in being a major security risk.
It was a dangerous time to be out and about. But there were a few hole-in-the-wall spaces where queer people could gather and socialize in safety. The Mob didn’t care about these guys. They were flamboyant and harmless. Besides, the gay parties required lots and lots of liquor. Illicit booze flowed in the streets freely. During Prohibition, the Mob needed these gay spaces as much as the gays needed a safe space to congregate. So it was a mutually beneficial alliance for both parties involved. The Mob took a cut of the profit and looked the other way to all other perversions.
Detective Tom Andrews walked into the bar and signalled to the bartender. Few minutes later, he was drinking an Old Fashioned, neat. He told himself that he was here strictly on business. To meet his C.I. about some communists who were rumoured to have secret meetings in Stonewall. His chest tightened with guilt when he cast his gaze to the corner. Young, beautiful boys dancing without a care in the world. His eyes darkened with desire. His shameful secret. God help him, but he couldn’t stop looking. A bead of sweat trickled down. He wiped his forehead profusely, and prayed to the Lord, to lead him away from temptation. Loosening his collar and shucking his tie to the side, he signalled down for another round. He was nursing his third round when he felt a warmth upon his shoulder. He looked up to see the most gorgeous man he had ever seen. Clad in all black, the man’s eyes held an inquisitive sparkle in them as the man surveyed Andrews. His gaze playfully took in the curly mop of hair, and slowly came to a rest on a scar, an inch above Tom’s lower lip. The man was probably in his thirties, had ruddy hair and was slightly heavy set.
“May I buy you a drink?” the attractive stranger said in a deep baritone.
“Get outta here. I’m not like you freaks” Thomas slurred angrily. The man tipped his hat, and walked away.
A month later… March, 1960
Allen was fast asleep, snowed in as New York was witnessing a snow storm, the likes of which had never been seen before. The city was coated in a thick blanket of snow, over 18 inches and all public transport had been closed down. He shivered involuntarily, and felt his heartbeat slow down as he felt small, soft hands wrap themselves around his waist. He sighed in content, and looked at the naked chest of his lover, in the light of the flickering candle flames. His lover had drifted off with a small smile. Allen heard a sultry moan when his lips grazed a path along the hip. Andrews stirred from his sleep, feeling the effects of the long kisses as blood rushed to his nether regions. Just as Andrews was about to grab his lover, he inched away from him laughing and ran away.
“You cocktease!” Andrews yelled, now no longer sleepy and in hot pursuit of his offender. Laughter rang through the apartment as the two men chased one another. Andrews was caught by surprise when Allen side stepped him deftly and pinned him against the wall.
“Don’t you know by now that I always get what I want?” Allen said, before closing the distance between them decisively. They continued kissing and exploring one another with their hands and mouths.
“I wish we could do this openly” Allen said, his breath running ragged. Andrews stiffened beside him and broke apart. He looked at him seriously. With a mix of pity and consternation. “I don’t” he said, somewhat brusquely. “My life would be over. My marriage and my career will be destroyed. I cannot hurt Bethany for my selfish sex perversions.”
“Sex perversions huh? Is that what I am to you then?” the other man questioned, running a hand through his already tousled hair, lower lip trembling.
“God forgive me, yes. When you look at me like that, you know I can’t resist you” Andrews said, pulling him down fiercely on to the cheap rug of the apartment.
A few hours later…
“Tom? Honey, I want to say something.” Allen said. Tom looked up from the crossword he was doing. Allen was on one knee.
“What the f…” Allen silenced him by placing a finger on his lips.
“I am not asking anything of you. What we have now is enough for me. May be some day, we will have more. But from the first moment I laid eyes upon you in that bar, I knew you had to be mine. Detective Tom Andrews, you cannot push me away. These moments we have… are worth an infinity to me. I love you”. Allen held out a box.
“Al…don’t do this. Bethany loves me. I won’t leave her”; Tom stated.
“Do you love me?” Allen asked, stubbornly. He wasn’t one to let go easily.
“Al, this is hard enough” Tom sighed, blinking furiously. “Whether I love you or not does not matter. We will never have what you want us to have. I don’t even want that. I want to be a good Christian. I want to be a good husband, and a good father to my children. Can you imagine the shame if they learn that I am a homosexual? You deserve love and happiness. You deserve better than this.”
“So what? Are you breaking up with me? Is that it?” the other man’s voice held a strange edge to it.
“Al, what are you…” and he never got to complete his sentence as the bullets hit his chest, and his body hit the floor with a soft thump.
