Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 5

notorious recluse, said to be a curmudgeon, though no one had really spoken to him in years. But he could not possibly live with these laughing people and be anything but as cheerful and welcoming as they were.
    "Going to Waisali? You're the reporter, right? Gabriel told me to bring you." The man was big, pro football big, and he was wearing a shirt with hibiscus flowers and shorts and flip flops. He pointed to his truck, and Ben threw his backpack into the bed of the truck and climbed in after it. The front was already full of a hugely pregnant woman and two wiggling brown kids who looked at Ben through the glass, studied the banana leaf over his head, then fell all over their mother, giggling.
    The ride was bumpy and wet, a confusion of bird sound and rain on tropical vegetation. The smell was indescribable, honey and red dirt and everything green and fertile in the world. Ben felt like he was coming home to a place he'd never been before, and found himself humming an old John Denver song under his breath.
    He'd fallen asleep, his head cradled on his backpack. The truck stopped and the tailgate was pulled down.
    "Is he breathing?" The voice was American, and sounded like he'd been laughing. Ben opened his eyes. "Welcome to Koro."
    For a moment, Ben thought he was looking into the face of a tiger. Untidy black hair curling a bit in the damp, eyes glowing like amber. Ben crawled out of the truck, nearly fell trying to stand up. He stuck his hand out. "Hello, Sir. I'm so pleased to meet you, and I'm looking forward to meeting Evangeline, too. I can't tell you how much it's meant to me…"
    He stopped. The man had his hands on his hips, and he sighed. "Come on in the house. You got something for me?"
    "Oh, right." Ben dug the envelope out of the inside of his backpack, handed it over, and hoped Gabriel Archuleta had not seen that his precious envelope had made the trip next to Ben's underwear and dirty t-shirts. Ben had read the super-secret note, of course, halfway across the Pacific. The envelope held a check for twelve thousand dollars and a note from one of the senior editors that said, Gabriel, long time, brother. You've tortured the world long enough, yeah? For this, I expect some Shock and Awe. Don't let me down. Be nice to the kid.
    ACT 2
    An event occurs which changes the protagonist's world forever (from The Structure of a Three Act Play)
    "We never really know what stupidity is until we have experimented on ourselves." Paul Gauguin
    ~ Excerpt from Rolling Stone Magazine Interview, April, 2012, titled GABRIEL ARCHULETA IS A LIAR
    BLUE: I guess I'm a bit confused. Are you saying there never was an Evangeline?
    ARCHULETA: I started writing the book in 1978. It was a different time. Different rules.
    BLUE: In what way?
    ARCHULETA: In every way! Don't pretend to be a damn fool.
    BLUE: What exactly does this mean? That book has meant so much to so many people over the years. People who believe in the idea of one soul mate, a true love that a person must travel through life to find. Are you saying now this isn't true? You just, what, made it all up?
    ARCHULETA: I'm saying I'm gay. What is it you kids say these days? Duh?
    BLUE: You're….Evangeline is a man?
    ARCHULETA: Jesus, you are a damn fool.
    Interview continued next day
    BLUE: Mr. Archuleta, you've been in Fiji since nine months after the publication of Searching for Evangeline. In all that time, you've done no interviews. Why now? Why did you consent to see a reporter from Rolling Stone?
    ARCHULETA: Let me show you something. (GA took reporter out to the porch behind his house, which looked over a green valley, then up a mountain slope of verdant, dense rain forest) What do you see?
    BLUE: Innocence? Paradise? Land untouched by man's hand?
    ARCHULETA: All of that. (pointing) Cacao, coconuts, sugar cane, vanilla. See them now? I'm trying to find a way to let this beautiful place stay true to itself. You understand?
    BLUE: Wait a minute. Rolling Stone gave you twelve thousand dollars so you can make chocolate bars?
    ARCHULETA: How do you know how much Rolling Stone gave me?
    Interview continued the next morning
    BLUE: Mr. Archuleta…
    ARCHULETA: I told you to call me Gabriel
    BLUE: Oh, sorry, Gabriel. What are you writing now? Why haven't you written a single word for over twenty years? Cat got your fictional tongue?
    ARCHULETA: (grinning) You sound a little miffed, kid! I've been writing. I just haven't been publishing.
    BLUE: You've been writing gay