Contents ( 42)
- The Art of Breathing
- Part One: How We Became Who We Are
- Prologue: Or, Where the Kid Hears the Word of the Day
- 1. Where Tyson Learns to Breathe
- 2. Where Tyson Makes a Phone Call
- 3. Where Tyson Graduates and Bear Freaks Out
- 4. Where Tyson Says Good-Bye
- 5. Where Tyson Gets the Mail
- Part Two: Coming Home
- 6. Where Tyson Comes Home
- 7. Where Tyson Gives a History Lesson
- 8. Where Tyson Attends the Most Awkward Party Ever
- 9. Where Tyson Plans Attends a Protest
- 10. Where Tyson Gets Arrested
- 11. Where Tyson Gets His Ass Handed to Him
- 12. Where Tyson Writes Bad Poetry and Gawks at Frat Boys
- 13. Where Tyson Decides to Man the Fuck Up
- 14. Where Tyson Asks Some Questions
- 15. Where Tyson Remembers Theresa Jean Paquinn
- 16. Where Tyson Learns the Benefit of Therapy
- 17. Where Tyson Meets the Man Who Becomes Helena Handbasket
- 18. Where Tyson Gets Screwed at His Own Birthday Party (And Not in a Good Way)
- Part Three: Just Breathe
- 19. Where Tyson Goes to Helena Handbasket’s Sex Dungeon
- 20. Where Tyson Beholds the Awesome Wonder That Is Paul Auster
- 21. Where Tyson Receives Advice from the Six Sages
- 22. Where Tyson Makes a Phone Call
- 23. Where Tyson Hears the Inevitable
- 24. Where Tyson Meets His Match
- 25. Where Tyson Says Hello, Where Tyson Says Good-bye
- 26. Where Tyson Touches upon the Inevitable
- 27. Where Tyson Faces the Music
- 28. Where Tyson Breathes
- 29. Tyson And Dominic
- 30. The Art Of Breathing
- Epilogue: Or, Bear’s Perspective, As It Were (Yeah, He’s Gonna Freak)
- Author’s Note
- Excerpt
- Prologue: Or, Where Bear Answers the Door
- More from TJ Klune
- Readers love the Bear, Otter, and the Kid Chronicles by TJ Klune
- By TJ Klune
“Sure is,” Paul says. “And trust me when I say you should feel privileged. Most people never get to come up here.”
“Where do all the other queens get ready?”
Paul points toward a balcony that overlooks the dance floor and the DJ. “There’s a separate changing room for them. But Sandy’s the best, so she gets the best.”
“Wait until you see her perform,” Kori says, coming up behind me. “It’s a sight to behold.”
“I’m going to take Dom and buy him a beer,” Vince says from the stairwell. “I want to know if he’s ever been shot at. I’ll bring you your vodka cranberry, Paul.”
“You’ve been shot at?” Darren says, eyebrows rising. “Dude, I want to hear. And I want beer.”
“I want something fruity,” Kori says. “And I want to hear too.”
“You want anything?” Dom asks me.
I shake my head, and as they leave, I hear Vince ask Dom if he’s ever gotten into a gunfight with drug lords at a crack den, to which Dom replies, “Well, there was this one time….”
“Men,” Paul mutters. “And Kori. Come, twinkie.”
I don’t even protest it anymore.
There’s an older man, at least in his seventies, sitting on a stool on the balcony, positioning a video camera and spotlight down toward the floor below. He’s a big man, built like a tree trunk. He may be old, but he looks like he can still kick ass.
“Hi, Daddy,” Paul says, sitting next to him on another stool.
Huh. I didn’t know Paul’s dad worked here. That’s weird. And he calls him Daddy? Creepy.
“Boy, what was all the ruckus?” the old man asks. “You know Sandy doesn’t like people up here.”
“Sandy’s opening up the Queen’s Lair membership for the weekend,” Paul says. “This is Tyson.”
The old man turns to look at me, squinting his eyes. “Jesus, boy. Where’d you get this one? Elementary school? I didn’t think Sandy was a chicken hawk.”
Paul snorted. “This is Tyson. Kori’s friend. From Oregon. He’s staying the weekend. He’s the one Sandy told you about.”
“The genius?”
“One and the same.”
“Come over here, boy!” he barks at me. “Let me see you good and proper. Double step, before I change my mind and put you over my knee.”
That’s not threatening at all. But I’m standing in front of him before I even know I’m moving.
“Well, if you’re not just a little thing,” he says, his kind smile belying the gruff exterior. “And smarter than all of us combined, or so I hear.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I say. “But it’s nice to meet you. Paul didn’t tell me his dad worked here.”
They both laugh long and loud, and I have no idea what I’ve said to get such a reaction.
“He’s not my dad,” Paul says, wiping his eyes. “He’s an old leather queen. I call him Daddy because he likes it. His name is Charlie.”
“Old leather queen,” Charlie says with a scowl. “It’s still not too difficult for me to take a strap to your bare bottom. I believe your feller wouldn’t mind that one bit.”