‘Pope Allen’ by Ray Cates

After my letter to him about his 3 act play, Allen Brownlee set up a date with me, to take me to a restaurant in the Metropolitan Life Building called 11 Madison Park.  I told my friend Sheena Nash while we were eating turkey sandwiches at school lunch, I was excited about it and she said, “Oh yeah I’ve seen him in my 8 AM English Comp Class.  He’s way over too rich for this New School College.  Have you seen he has a little teen age boy slave who follows him around, carries his books and pulls out his chair for him?  I’ll bet the buttons on his regular shirt are pure gold.”

“No I only saw him once, he writes plays and I approached him in the library and gave him my better version of his plays 3rd act.”

We were eating but when we were ready to talk again, over our apple pie, she said, “That Madison Park place costs about as much as my father takes home a week, and my father is a ‘stick it to the patient’ big time MD, and he brings home big money, not that I see much of it.

Boys like that Allen will want more than a goodnight peck on the cheek from someone as beautiful as you.”

“Maybe he has a little brother who follows him around, not a slave?”

“No this, ‘Boy servant’, and I’m sure proper whoopdie- doos like Allen don’t call their slave boys, ‘slaves’,  looks like a movie star, you look like a movie star and the slave boy is pretty like a rock star, maybe a singer in the boy band Eclipse The Sun.  The boy sits in the back corner of the classroom until Allen comes toward the door and then opens it for him with a bow. He doesn’t look like Allen, he’s a freakin slave.  I’ve heard they sell pretty boys over in Rhode Island who are young, and ones age 13 or 14 sell for $50,000 or up.”

“Why doesn’t a boy like that just run away?  This is New York City, he’s not chained up, I never have seen anyone like that here.  He must like his situation or he would run away here.  I would.”

“I’m sure some do, but maybe he has a chip inserted in him, like you would use to get your dog back, or he may be trained or harshly punished if he tries to leave. Even worse maybe his mother or sister are also owned by the boy, and if he runs the owner will beat his family?”

“Where did you learn all this stuff?”

“Mostly in The New York Post their favorite subject is slavery.  Well it’s distressing that most slaves around New York City are women.  Most you don’t know are, because they look just like normal. One of the female writers says, ‘Every man wants a beautiful slave girl.’  You would be in the $50,000. and ‘wow’ girl range Dory, but with my over-sized nose and too much of a blubber mouth, would sell in the $1,000. range where a boy would probably buy me for his laundry work, and sex, until he could afford something better.  Did you know farm boys have been know to hump sheep when no girls are around.  We live in a sexually violent world, just underneath the skin of society is an unzipped pair of pants and a subway poke.  It’s just that most men obey the rules of social graces, and do women in bedrooms, kitchens and doctor’s offices.”

“No your pretty Sheena, and very smart.  I rarely read all the newspapers, but my father reads them all.  Dad just devours the theatre pages, he knows all about everything theatre.  I get that talent from him and hankering for the dramatic, but not in newsprint.  I think society is not bleak, but neat.  I feel always safe, but I do carry pepper spray.  I think that men who write plays are special and would not hump sheep.”


Other Parrot Stories about the Church of No Divorce