Repair and Maintenance
at the Paradise Cove Motel

"Good morning, Cory," Helen Tucker said in her nasal voice from behind the check-in desk, "You left the tool box in the entry way last night."

"Thanks for the update…." Cory retorted but then gave the proprietor of the motel, and his boss, the most charming smile in his arsenal and added, "Ummm...er... can I have some cash, Ma?"

"Why do you need money, Cory dear?" Ma asked in her monotone voice. "And did you pick up your work list for today?"

"Yeah, Ma," Cory replied and waved about the piece of paper he had in his hand that he’d almost thrown out twice since he found it taped to his door. "I got the list right here."

"Well, the guy in seven called yet again and wanted to know why their AC still wasn't fixed," Ma intoned. "I told 'em you'd fix it first thing today."

"Um. OK. Sure," Cory replied. "I'll fix that after I fix the steps to the landing."

"Didn't you fix that yet?" Ma asked with a puzzled frown.

"No, I told ya yesterday, we need 16d nails."

"Fine," Ma answered with a dismayed sigh, "Here's five bucks. Go get the damn nails and fix the goddamn steps and everything else on your list, Cory."

"OK, Ma," Cory replied sullenly as he thought that starting, not to mention finishing, everything on that list would take at least two weeks. He took the five dollar bill from her and put it in the pocket of his jeans. He started walking out and again banged his foot against the tool box. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath and thought about kicking the tool box halfway to Florida. Instead he shoved it into the corner and glared at it menacingly. "Sit! Stay!" he ordered.

“I'm going to need a receipt, Cory, and the change!” Ma called out just as Cory made it out the door. "Try not to lose it this time or I’ll chain that tool box to your ankle."

Cory stepped outside the office, adjusted his Green Bay Packers cap and re-shaped the bill. As any top of the line sports fan and Wisconsinite knew, the shape of the bill indicated the level of coolness. Cory had a perfectly curved bill. He started down the steps and nearly tripped on the loose one. He scowled at it and muttered to himself, "Gotta fix that one of these days."

He then ambled directly to Miller's which was one of the island's grocery stores. Luckily for Cory he'd sucked off one of the cute construction workers and gotten a box of 16d nails out of the deal. ‘Where’d I put those things?’ he wondered to himself. That meant his recently acquired five dollar bill could go to better uses. Like a six pack of MGD. Of course that left Cory with the problem of coming up with a receipt for the nails, but he decided to worry about it when the time came. Right now the beach and some beer were beckoning to him, and he was powerless to resist their call.

After purchasing the beer, Cory headed for the public beach near the Three Aces Casino. He sighed and wished he had some money to gamble and maybe win big. Money was one thing that Cory didn’t have. He was always broke or even broker. At least people tended to feel sorry for him, like the grandfather behind him at Miller’s who’d covered his sales tax on the beer, and others who occasionally gave him money for alcohol.

Cory had been working at the Paradise Cove Motel for seven months. It really wasn’t working though. Helen and Frank Tucker, the cheapskates who owned the place, didn’t pay him. Once they found out that Cory was wanted on the mainland, they let him stay in the smallest room for free as long as he worked. Since he wasn’t being paid anything, Cory wasn’t overly motivated to do much work. Cory liked to think the Tuckers were getting their money’s worth out of him. When Ma and Pa really wanted something done, they usually threatened to call the police and offered him a free margarita, or the occasional fatty, after the work was done; that was sufficient for Cory to get the job done. Some of the locals actually grew some pretty good weed, and Cory was a sucker for free pot.

The Paradise Cove Motel was the worst place to stay on Anteros Island although Ma and Pa certainly advertised it well and there were always a few guests. However the fishbowl margaritas, largest on the island, and Senora Lopez’s cooking drew a large dinnertime crowd to the Paradise Cove Motel Cantina every night. The Lopez family members were the only other employees of the motel. Arturo, Maria and their two teenage sons, José and Jesús, were responsible for all the housekeeping and cooking all the meals except breakfast. Cory occasionally got angry at them because they actually got paid but he supposed it was only fair because they didn’t live in the motel and they actually did something. Cory didn’t dislike them anyway; they were always nice to him and slipped him a few dollars every now and then.

Just as he was arriving at the beach, Cory saw a police car drive by going in the opposite direction. His eyes opened wide and his heart started pounding. Could it be? Was it the most amazing man alive on the entire island if not the world? Mindless of the traffic, he quickly jumped into the street, dodged a red sports car, almost crashed into a cyclist who shouted something foreign at him, and managed to get in front of the police car which was going slow enough to stop. Cory smiled. It was him, the love of his life, the man of his dreams. The Asian police officer whose name he didn’t even know.

Suddenly the taxi, an Action Taxi driven by a wizened old man, behind the police car, blasted its horn. Cory realized he was just standing in the middle of traffic like a deer caught in headlights, doing absolutely nothing with his mouth open, staring at the officer. Shit. He also noticed the love of his life was signaling him to move along and keep walking. Cory sighed. Why couldn’t the man have arrested him or at least yelled at him. He dejectedly started moving again, turned to watch the officer start driving away, and nearly tripped over the curb.

“Have a nice trip. See ya’ next fall”, the cabbie yelled with a laugh as he drove past.

“Yeah? Well same to you asshole!!” was the best that Cory could come up with on short notice. The only response from the old cabbie was a prominently displayed finger.

He really needed a beer now and he really needed to get back to the other side of the street if he wanted to get to the beach. Dammitall. He forlornly watched the police car drive further away.

By the time he made it to the beach, Cory had already finished one beer and was working on a second. He walked up to the Clam Cabana and waved to Jimmy as he let himself in.

“Mornin’ Jimbo,” he greeted with a smile. “I just had the most romantic encounter with the love of my life.”

“Good morning, Cory,” the tall man with dark curly hair replied as he continued mixing a large bowl of dough. “Did you get a ticket?”

“No,” Cory sighed.

“Did you get pulled over for driving drunk?”

“No, I walked over here.”

“Considering that this is you we’re talkin’ about, it was a reasonable question; and we won’t mention the fact that you’d have to steal a car. Did ya cause another public disturbance?”

“Almost…well not really.”

“Dare I ask?”

“I jumped out in the street and got a really good look at him!”

“Oh, no. Anybody hurt?”

“No. He even waved to me!”

“In other words, he told you to get the hell out of the street.”

“Yep.”

“You’re hopeless, Cory.”

“Thanks, Jim.”

“Why don’t you just drop by the station and say hi or ask him to go to lunch with you?”

“Ummmm…no. Then I’d have to talk to him.”

“Well, isn’t that the point, lover-boy?”

“Yeah…well…no…well…of course it is, dumbass.”

Jim raised an eyebrow at that but said nothing.

“Wanna beer?’ Cory asked.

“Naw, it’s a little too early for me, and I’m supposed to be working.”

“I suppose…although beer makes work go by faster,” Cory answered with a shrug. Jim was far too industrious for his own good. “I guess I’ll go catch me some rays. Is the chair back there?”

“Always is, right where you leave it.”

“OK. Later, Jimbo,” Cory said and picked up the cheap plastic beach chair with ‘Paradise Cove Motel Do Not Remove from Premassiss’ written on it in black magic marker. “Can I borrow the cooler again?”

“Yes,” Jim replied as he continued mixing batter, “Have some ice too.”

“Thanks, you’re the best.”

“I know. Have fun, Cory.” Cory filled the cooler with ice, set the remaining beer in it and headed for the shore. The beach was not crowded yet and Cory found himself a spot about twenty feet from the water. He took off his shirt, adjusted his cap and again reshaped the bill, put on his aviator sunglasses, opened another beer and flopped down on the chair. It was time to relax and enjoy the scenery.

“Is this spot taken,” a young man asked as he approached Cory. Cory had noticed him walking up and down the beach with his towel and bag for twenty minutes. The kid had been looking not only for a good spot but he’d been quietly scoping out the beach goers. He was obviously a tourist looking for some action. Cory decided that considering how clueless the kid seemed, it was probably his first time.

“I was saving it for you,” Cory said with a big smile and lowered his sunglasses a la Risky Business to seemingly check out the new comer. Cory had already checked him out as he’d walked repeatedly past. He had short wavy brown hair, innocent brown eyes and a boyish face with a genuine smile. Good enough for today! “Have a seat.”

“Thanks, my name’s Adam,” the kid said as he spread out his blanket, “What’s yours?”

“Cory, pleased to meet you Adam,” Cory replied, “Been here long?”

“No, we got here a couple of days ago on the San Julia,” Adam said pointing in the direction of where the cruise ships docked.

“That’s longer than fresh off the boat.”

“I suppose that’s true…ummmm…how long have you been here?”

“I live here.”

“Oh! That’s cool! I’d love to live here. It’s gorgeous!”

“Yes…it is…” Cory said slyly, giving Adam a rakish look-over, and then added with a smirk, “And the island ain’t bad either.” He then chuckled as Adam was perplexed for an instant and then blushed profusely. The kid was definitely new at this. “So where are you staying, Adam?”

“Ugh…the worst joint on the island,” Adam replied with a sigh, “the Paradise Cove Motel. “Why do you have one of their chairs that you’re not supposed to take?”

Great. Cory took a deep breath and gave Adam his best knowing smile. “It is kinduva dump but the money that you save on the room you can spend on beer or those fancy margaritas they have.”

“My brother won’t let me drink,” Adam replied with a sigh, “He says I’m too young; I just turned eighteen.”

Cory gasped dramatically when Adam stated that his brother wouldn’t let him drink. “He’s a effin’ Nazi!” he exclaimed, “Wanna beer?”

“Sure…uh…thanks!”

“My pleasure.” Cory popped open a beer and handed it to him.

“So…why do you have that chair.”

Crap. Cory had hoped to distract Adam with the beer. “I stole it,” he replied with some chagrin but then admitted, “Actually I work there.”

“Really?” Adam perked up at that and gave him a lopsided grin. “Do you know who is supposed to fix things over there?”

Double Crap. “Fix things? What do you mean?”

“You know, maintenance, fixing things that are broken like locks or lights or steps or air conditioning units, that kind of stuff.”

Damn. He had to mention air conditioners. Cory had a sinking feeling that this might be the guest in room seven. “Uhhh…yeah…I know the dude. He’s a real slacker.”

“Our AC has been broken for two days and it’s just awful in the room,” Adam continued. “Do you think you could say something to him?”

Shit. It was the guy from room seven! Shitshitshit! Today was just not Cory’s day. He took a deep breath. Adam seemed like a nice kid and Cory was in the mood to get laid however this could put a serious damper on their blossoming relationship. He was going to have to be slick to get himself out of this looking good.

“Well…actually, I’m the second shift maintenance guy,” Cory started and had to smile when Adam’s eyes went wide and a hopeful smile appeared on his face. “I could beat the shit out of the guy for ya…” He chuckled as Adam seemed to ponder that option seriously. Then inspiration hit Cory!

“I have an idea,” he said conspiratorially to Adam.

“What?”

“Why don’t you go over to the food store and get us a couple of six packs or even a case of MGD and I’ll go over to your room and fix your AC right now even though it’s not my shift,” he suggested then added while wagging his eyebrows, “Then we’ll see how well it works…”

Adam blushed but then smiled at Cory’s suggestion. “That sounds great,” he said. “Where’s the store? And do you want the key to the room?”

“Kid,” Cory replied, “You should never give anyone your room key. It’s not safe even if it is just the Paradise Cove Motel and no one will knowingly take it. I have the maintenance key. Let’s finish our beers and get going.

Cory hurried back to the motel, surreptitiously avoided answering any of Ma’s questions and grabbed the maintenance key from the front desk. He entered room seven and noticed that there seemed to be only two inhabitants. Good. With any luck big brother would stay away until he was done having his way with little brother.

He turned his attention to the air conditioner. Cory had no idea how to fix air conditioning units. He scratched his head, pulled off his cap and reshaped the bill again before slapping it back on his head. Prior to deciding the situation was hopeless, he made sure the unit was plugged in. It was. He tried turning it on. It didn’t work. He kicked it once. Not surprisingly, the appliance didn’t respond. He tried hitting it. Not surprisingly, the results were the same. A random thought entered Cory’s mind. It was something about doing the same thing over and over, and expecting different results, but then his train of thought de-railed. One last kick convinced Cory that this wasn’t working. Fuck. Adam was not going to be impressed with his super repair skills if the AC wasn’t working by the time he got back.

Cory looked out the window and noticed Frank Tucker, aka Pa aka Mr. Helen, with his pants drooping down, planting some flowers in one of the beds surrounding the gigantic plastic margarita in the center courtyard. “Just say no to crack,” Cory muttered to himself and looked away. Inspiration hit again! Cory thanked all the island gods especially the ones dedicated to beer and sex that were on his side today and headed for the front desk.

“Are you working, Cory?” Ma asked.

“Yep, I’m hard at work!”

“Of course you are, Cory.”

Cory gave Ma his best innocent look as he took the register and scanned the occupancy list. There was no one in eight. Perfect. “Can I have a margarita on the house tonight? Since I’m being so productive today!” he asked with a smile and went back out the door.

“We’ll see…” Helen replied in her usual monotone, “It depends on how much you get done.”

“I am bustin’ my ass today!” Cory replied and then thought to himself, ‘If things work out, I’ll be busting Adam’s sweet assets very soon!’ The distraction of that image caused him to trip over the loose step.

“I see that, Cory.”

“FuckinA!” he muttered as he flipped the bird to both Ma and the steps and headed for room eight. Cory let himself into the unoccupied room and turned on the lights. He quickly unplugged the AC unit and carefully removed it from the window. He then hoisted it on his shoulder and peered out the door to make sure that no one, especially Ma or Pa, was looking. Pa was still planting flowers. Upon seeing the man at work again, Cory thought, ‘Full Moon over Paradise Cove Motel. I should be writin’ this shit down. Those comedians at the big resorts would pay big money for this gold!’ He hurriedly snuck back into room seven.

Cory smiled. Sometimes he just amazed himself. He removed the dysfunctional unit and replaced it with the one from the other room. He supposed the truly intelligent thing to do would have been to check the unit before moving it but it was too late now. He got the air conditioner set up in the window, turned it on, and gave himself a satisfied smirk when it whirred to life. Cory set it to the coldest setting. Another mission accomplished! Well…almost.

Cory quickly moved the broken unit back to room eight and left it on the floor since it wasn’t working and hurried back to room seven. Adam should be returning at any time with the beer. He left the door to the room just a bit ajar and went to the bathroom. He quickly stripped, gave himself an admiring look in the mirror and hopped into the shower.

After several minutes in the shower Cory was thoroughly lathered up in shower gel and shampoo. He decided that he liked the herby green stuff that Adam used and that he might have to buy some next time he went to the store. It did, however, look like it was expensive and probably not worth the beer he’d have to give up to get it. He’d also gotten really hard thinking about what he would do to Adam and the sound of the door closing alerted him that Adam had returned.

“I’m in the shower, honey,” he shouted at the top of his lungs so that Adam would hear him. “I really like this fancy green shower stuff ya got.” He then turned around and stepped directly under the stream of water to rinse off. He heard the shower door open and knew he was presenting Adam with his best side.

“Who are you?” A strange voice asked. Cory spun around and stared open mouthed at a dark haired man that was not Adam. Shit. The man looked at him and then his eyes dropped to Cory’s organ. Cory gasped audibly and his erection deflated immediately.

“Shut the door, you friggin’ pervert,” he yelled at the stranger, “I’m naked!” He then yanked the door shut himself and felt somewhat satisfied when he almost caught the man’s fingers. It would serve him right. Asshole. That had been a terrible waste of a perfectly good erection.

“What are you doing in my shower?”

Cory rolled his eyes as he finished rinsing. Why did people always have to ask the obvious? “Uhhhh…I’m taking a shower,” he replied with a good dose of condescension. This was probably the big brother who wouldn’t let Adam drink. Fascist Pig. “And I’m waiting for Adam to get back from the store,” he added deciding that perhaps he should be somewhat polite to the man just in case the fellow was a world champion black belt like Chuck Norris.

He turned the shower off and was surprised when a towel flew over the top of the door and landed on his head. At least the Nazi had some manners. Cory dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist before exiting the shower.

“Are you a prostitute?”

‘Huh?’ Cory’s brain stopped on that one thought and his jaw again slackened at that question. It took a minute for the implications to fully register with his mind. No one had ever accused him of that before. He scratched the side of his head and wondered where his normally large supply of witty and smartass comebacks had gotten themselves off to. Traitorous bastards. He needed one now. Hell. He needed a beer or four.

“No,” he finally replied, unable to come up with anything better, “Do I look like a ‘ho?” The other man raised an eyebrow and gave him a scornful look.

“Adam was never a very good judge of people,” he said with a sneer, “and it looks like that hasn’t changed. Nor is he very good at socializing or finding himself companionship.”

“Maybe that’s cuz he’s got an overprotective asshole like you for a brother,” Cory retorted. He felt himself getting angry at Adam’s brother. The man wasn’t being nice to Adam and the idiot was being rude to him as well. He frowned as he saw the man reach in his back pocket, retrieve his wallet, and pull out several bills.

“Two hundred dollars and you show my little brother a good time,” the man said evenly.

“Listen, dumbass, I’m not a fuckin’ ‘ho,” Cory repeated himself. Even though his mind was racing at how much beer he could buy with two hundred dollars. That would have him plastered for a week straight. He could ignore Ma for seven whole days. Two hundred dollars of beer was something he hadn’t ever imagined he’d be able to buy all at once. He’d fill his entire room with beer.

“You show my little brother a good time,” the man said with a menacing tone of voice and deliberately placed the money on the small table near the window.

Cory crossed his arms and glared at the man. “You should be nicer to your brother,” he gritted out. “I am gonna show your brother a good time as soon as you get the hell outta the room.” He breathed a sigh of relief when the man gave him one last threatening gaze and left. “Why the fuck did I fix their AC?”

It was dusk and the lights had been turned on at the Paradise Cove Motel. The giant margarita in the center of the courtyard had also been lit and gave off an eerie red glow. Cory smiled to himself as he hammered a nail in the loose step leading to the registration desk. Today had been a fantastic day.

He stared at the nails he’d hammered into the step and decided that they were in a straight line if you observed the steps from the correct angle and moved your head first to one side and then the other; closing one or even both eyes didn’t hurt either. Cory didn’t care; he felt good. He felt very good.

Cory had spent the entire afternoon getting drunk and fooling around with Adam who had arrived in the room shortly after his brother left. They had quickly downed a six pack of MGD and then Cory had proceeded to show Adam how to kiss. Cory smiled to himself as he remembered. He was one of the island’s best kissers and he knew he’d shown Adam all the tricks of the trade.

Then they’d had a few more beers and Cory had shown Adam how to properly suck. Cory was the best purveyor of fellatio on the island bar none and he had thoroughly corrupted sweet young innocent Adam. The kid was almost as good as he was now. It was a good thing they had a case of beer.

After several more beers, Cory had then proceeded to show Adam the intricacies of removing a condom from its packaging while completely intoxicated and then applying the wiggly squiggly infernal contraption to an erection while in an even greater state of inebriation. Cory hated condoms especially the ones that were lubed for pleasure. Lubed for torment was more accurate. Luckily Cory had brought a whole box with him.

About three fourths of the way through the case, they had finally gotten to some serious erotic island action. Cory didn’t usually care if he was the top or the bottom and Adam was too obliterated to make a decision. Since it was Adam’s first time, Cory topped their first go around. And their second go around. And their third go around. Afterwards he convinced Adam to top by explaining to him that a well rounded education was fundamental.

They then spent the rest of the afternoon in alcoholic bliss, kissing and making fun of Adam’s brother. They also made plans to visit the northern shores of the island if no one else was using the motel truck. Cory neglected to mention that he wasn’t going to ask Ma since he knew how to hotwire the jalopy. He was looking forward to spending tomorrow with Adam. The kid had promised to get more beer for their sightseeing expedition and Cory decided he kinda liked the kid too.

Before returning to his room to look for the box of 16d nails, Cory had given Adam a big sloppy kiss and dramatically confessed to having been, at first, offended by Adam’s brother. Adam almost seemed embarrassed. He then continued by admitted to being super nice to the brother and successfully wheedling out of him one hundred and eighty dollars of margarita money just for Adam. He put the money in Adam’s shirt pocket, pointed him in the direction of the bar and bade him a good night. Mission Show-Adam-a-Good-Time accomplished! Now if he could only remember where Pa put the Super Glue, so he could glue the Nazi’s luggage shut.

Cory had then spent the next twenty minutes stumbling about his room in a drunken stupor looking for the nails. Eventually he found them behind the ‘Maryland Crabcakes’ giant plastic crab souvenir he’d found in room three. Someone left it there several months ago and Cory had adopted it. He liked low maintenance pets. The nails had been carefully hidden by the crab and a bottle of generic brand el-cheapo beer. Damn horse piss. He also threatened the crab with no beer if it pulled another stunt like that.

Cory finished hammering in another nail and tested the step. It didn’t wiggle anymore. He decided maybe one more nail just to make sure. It might also make the line of nails look straighter and more hammering would prove to Ma that he was working hard and deserved another margarita besides the one she promised him twenty minutes ago. A shadow appeared on the steps and then Pa sat down next to him.

“Evenin’ Cory.”

“Hey, Pa,” Cory replied cheerfully and hoped the man would not notice that he was working trashed out of his mind. Pa never noticed or never said anything. “I hope you’re not workin’ too late.”

“I juss wanted ta fix the step.”

“You’re a good boy, Cory.”

“I know. Thanks, Pa. Hey, the flowers look great. What’re those white ones?”

“Petunias. They smell nice too. Ma likes ‘em and all.”

“Yeah. Gotta keep Ma happy.” As if by coincidence Ma shouted something from the inside the lobby.

“Say, Cory, I think I hear Ma callin’ for me. Why don’t you have a margarita on the house when you’re done? I’ll tell Arturo I said it was OK.”

“Thanks, Pa, that’s real nice of you.”

“’Night Cory.”

“’Night, Pa.” Cory watched as Pa shuffled over towards the restaurant. He then snorted to himself. He should have kept some more of that money and bought Pa a belt. Adam’s brother was a real ass but Adam was a good kid. Maybe Adam was still at the bar. And maybe, Cory decided, he’d see about weaseling a couple of tacos out of Maria. Cory was suddenly distracted from hammering by thoughts of food and margaritas and drunk, willing, young Adams. He didn’t notice that he’d changed the angle of his swing slightly and the hammer landed squarely on his thumb.

“Dammitall,” he cursed out loud and decided that the island gods were sending him a clear message. They obviously wanted him to stop working right now. He set the hammer down next to the nails on the steps and headed for the Paradise Cove Motel Cantina.