Free Tainted Tokay by Jean-Pierre Alaux

Benjamin and Claude took in every architectural detail. Elisabeth and Consuela went straight into the lobby, which was filled with mosaics and sc ulpted columns.
    They purchased the tickets to the thermal baths. The men and women went to their separate changing areas: large blue-tiled vestibules lined with cubicles that didn’t lock. A prevailing atmosphere of body heat diminished any sense of modesty. Armed with their terrycloth towels, Benjamin, Claude, and their chatty guide joined Elisabeth and Consuela in the large pool. The water was hot and almost turquoise. No one was actually swimming. Instead, the bathers were luxuriating in an atmosphere of muted elegance.
    Elisabeth pointed to the glass ceiling. “So much light’s coming through. It’s superb. Zoltán, didn’t you tell us that baths like these are actually part of the health-care system and that doctors think the spring wate r’s medicinal?”
    Zoltán nodded. “Budapest has almost two dozen thermal baths. The Gellért’s is the grandest. People come here not only to spend time in the water—it’s always thirty-eight degrees Celsius—but also to get massages and go in the sauna. Look,” he said, gesturing toward a board game, “you can even play chess whil e you’re here.”
    Benjamin asked Claude if he’d like to start a game.
    Elisabeth and Consuela talked quietly. Zoltán was showing off his muscled torso as he floated in the water. He smiled at the women from time to time without gett ing too close.
    After an hour in the pool, Elisabeth and Consuela got out to have some mint tea. Benjamin, who had lost his match against Claude, was keeping an eye on Zoltán. The tour guide seemed to be in familiar territory. Zoltán, too, had emerged from the water and had walked over to a group of older men, who seemed quite interested in him. So, was the boy selling his body regularly in order to buy his expensive shoes and pay for his gym membership?
    Benjamin had read about the infamous Ergo insurance sex party in the Gellért baths. The boy would be foolish to drum up any business here, considering all the surveillance the hotel probably had by now. But maybe he was risking it and giving these men his contact information. Zoltán’s guided tours evidently had bac k-room options.
    When Benjamin told his wife what he was thinking, Elisabeth glanced at Zoltán and agreed. Consuela, however, did n’t believe it.
    â€œHe’s one hundred percent hetero, I’m telling you. I know them well, the ones who s wim both ways.”
    Elisabeth corrected her with a giggle. “Y ou mean swing.”
    â€œSwing, if you prefer, although here swim is more appropriate,” Consuela said, throwing her damp black mane o ver a shoulder.
    â€œShush,” Elisabeth said. “He’s c oming our way.”
    Sure enough, Zoltán was approaching them, his stretchable polyester bathing suit hardly concealin g his virility.
    After telling him that they’d be happy to stay a little longer, Elisabeth invited Zoltán to join them for te a. He accepted.
    Benjamin was always impressed with his wife’s ability to get information from people. She made it seem effortless. Benjamin listened as Elisabeth questioned Zoltán about his past and present. As he suspected, Zoltán was not a city boy. He had been in Budapest for a year and lived with his elderly and half-crazy aunt. He was from Szerencs, a godforsaken town in e astern Hungary.
    â€œTokaj, you know?” he a sked Elisabeth.
    No, his parents were not winemakers. His mother did housecleaning, while his disabled father could only contribute his income from a pension and the meager amount he made on the garden vegetables he sold at market. But his Uncle Antal and cousins Pavel and Vilmos all worked in the vineyards and made a very good wine.
    â€œGold wine!” he insisted, as if he were ready to divulge some magic formu