The Curse of Flight

by R. G. Hendrickson

  Dan looked at him and then back at her. “No, I didn’t, but now that you mention it.” Taco whimpered.

  Of course, he didn’t notice. It was a rhetorical question. She honed in and talked to Steve directly this time. “How are things going?” It was clear she spoke to him because she looked right at him.

  “Fine.”

  “Taking any more time off?”

  “Just Tuesdays.” He squirmed like he’d eaten too much.

  “Oh good. Two nights a week now. Much better.”

  “No, it’s just Tuesday.”

  “I thought you had Saturdays off?”

  “I did, but I changed it.”

  “Why did you do that?”

  “Long story.” He got up and walked to the hall.

  The bathroom, she guessed. He would be back, and they would begin again. Something was going on with him, and she was going to find out.

  Chapter 9

  Steve splashed cold water on his face in the sink. The questions had begun. When he went back out there, she would be on him. He could surrender and tell her now, but what was he going to say?

  He dried his face and hung the towel. Maybe he should just go home. The game was over, and dinner almost done, except for the burger on his plate and half a beer. Shame to let it go to waste.

  He turned off the bathroom light and went into the hall. When he got to the den, they both were looking at him, plus Taco. What was up with that? He sat in his place.

  “When was the last time you went out on a weekend?” Genie didn’t waste any time.

  “I don’t know. It’s been a while.”

  “And you’re still doing the real estate thing during the day?”

  “Yeah.” Taco ran up and put a paw on his foot.

  “How’s that going? Isn’t it too much?” She raised an eyebrow.

  “It’s fine.” Taco jumped up and sniffed his crotch.

  “When was the last time you went on a date?” She leaned in.

  “A date?” This one surprised him. She was getting warm, drilling down.

  “Yes, a date. It’s not a trick question.”

  The dog curled up on his lap. “I see a guy once in a while.”

  “And who is he?”

  “No one steady.” No one more than once. Josh had been the last. There wasn’t anyone else since then, but he didn’t want to tell her that.

  “Why not? Have you seen Chris?”

  “He’s been out of town a lot, and we kind of cut it off all together, no more friends with benefits.”

  “When did that happen?”

  “A couple months ago.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? I thought you liked him?”

  “It was casual. You know that.”

  Genie nudged Dan. “Steve and Chris broke up for good. I was afraid of that.” She said it like Dan hadn’t been there for the previous conversation.

  Dan took a break from channel surfing. “Oh, that’s too bad, or maybe not. I guess it’s up to them.”

  “He’s not seeing anyone special, not even dating much. Don’t you think that’s a shame? There must be a lot of nice guys out there who would love to settle down with him. Something’s holding him back.”

  “All those screaming women finally getting to you, buddy?”

  “Haven’t changed teams.” This was the only time Dan talked to him about anything besides football. The screaming women were Dan’s favorite topic.

  “Some guys think they’re okay alone.” Genie elbowed Dan. “They just don’t understand what they’re missing. Do you ever tell Steve what our marriage means to you, how unhappy you were before?”

  Dan squirmed. “Genie, maybe that’s enough.” A panicked glance landed Steve’s way and begged to change the subject. “Did you sell that apartment the other night?”

  “No.” The vowel stretched out too long in Steve’s throat, like the swig of beer that followed it.

  “Josh wasn’t interested?” Dan asked.

  Steve swallowed hard and said no. The little word took on a life of its own and turned to a sigh. He didn’t intend it. It just came out that way, so long and longing. He’d said too much with it. Genie looked at him like it spoke volumes. He sunk in his chair and swallowed a mouthful of beer to wash down the disappointment stuck in his throat. Taco made a little whimper in his lap.

  Genie’s eyes widened. “What was that?”

  “What?” Steve’s eyes got heavy. He dug down further in the recliner and yawned, a diversion.

  Contagious, Dan yawned too and surfed the channels. Some Like It Hot came on the screen again. He flipped.

  “That sigh. What’s the story with this?” she asked. “Who’s Josh?”

  He ignored her. She poked Dan for an answer.

  “He’s a trapeze artist. Steve showed him an apartment the other night.”

  “Hmm, is Josh gay by any chance?”

  “Yeah, yeah. So?” Dan flipped the channels and paused at the weather.

  She was on to it. Amazing.

  “It’s all clear now.” She put a finger to her chin.

  Taco stood up on Steve’s lap and looked at her with a tilted head and one ear stuck in the air. Dan turned up the volume on the weather report. “Warm and sunny,” the meteorologist said. Who would have guessed?

  Steve flinched, and Genie stared him down. “Who is Josh?”

  He looked away. “He’s this guy who works with Dan. I met him a couple months ago and showed him an apartment the other night. Dan referred him to me.”

  “Referred for what?” she asked.

  “As a realtor.” Steve rolled his eyes. What else?

  Genie turned to Dan. “When did you refer him?”

  “I don’t know. A week ago.”

  “They already knew each other!” Genie put both hands palm up in the air.

  “I didn’t know that!” Dan looked confused.

  “We didn’t know each other really, just met once.” He probably shouldn’t have said anything.

  “Where did you meet?” she asked.

  “At a bar.” He tried to act nonchalant.

  “And what happened after that?”

  Dan found the true crime channel. A suspect sat under interrogation. “You ask a lot of questions, Genie. Maybe too much.” He kept surfing.

  “I’m only asking because I care.” She said it so serious, her voice uncharacteristically soft.

  Steve leaned forward, hands on knees. “Do you really want to know?” Maybe he needed to talk about it.

  “Yes, I do. I really want to know.” She leaned forward.

  “Taco wants a walk.” Dan jumped up and looked for the leash. Taco found it.

  Steve slapped his thigh. “Okay, I’ll tell you.” He caved. Might as well. She would find out anyway.

  Taco lead the leash out of the room. Dan followed. “See you later.”

  “We went to my place. It was unbelievable. I never experienced anything like it, and I started thinking, you know, maybe this was it, the real thing. Stupid me.” He knocked his head with his fist.

  “Oh no! What happened?”

  “There was something I always wanted to do when the right guy came along, write my number on his hand. I saw it in a movie. What was it?”

  “They did that in The Music of Silence.”

  “No, it was two guys.” He swallowed the rest of the hamburger.

  “When did it come out?” she asked.

  “Maybe twenty or thirty years ago. It’s old.”

  “Music of Silence is new, but the story’s back in the day.” She tilted her head to the side. “I think they used to write on their hands because they didn’t have mobile.”

  He sucked on a tooth. “Ever since I saw it in that movie, I wanted to do it. So, I did.”

  “How did that go?”

  “Great, until he wrote on my hand.” The rest of the beer washed down the burger.

  “That’s nice. Did you call him?”

  “No, it wasn’t a number.” That
was for sure.

  “What did he write?”

  He opened his palm and rubbed where the ink had faded. “He wrote I said no.”

  She stood up and crossed her arms. “What did you do to him?”

  “What?”

  She leaned forward. “Did you push yourself on him?”

  It was just like Genie to jump to the worst conclusion. “No, who do you think I am?”

  “A man. That’s enough.”

  “It’s not like that. He wouldn’t give me his number. That’s all.” She took Josh’s side and hadn’t even met him.

  Genie sat down again. “You’re better off. You’ll find someone who appreciates you.”

  “I just have this feeling there’s more to it. I can’t stop thinking about him.”

  “You’ll meet someone you like better.”

  “Now I’m just his realtor. That’s if he calls me.”

  “I knew there was something wrong. For goodness sake, why do you want to be his realtor?”

  “I don’t know. At least it’s something. I can’t believe he doesn’t want me. I was there that night. I saw his face. What happened to make him not want me anymore? He did then.”

  The finger went back to her chin. “Maybe he’s hiding something.”

  “Yeah, like his number. I’ve got it now, but I’m done being a jerk. I’m not calling him.”

  Genie suppressed a laugh but not very well.

  He scrunched his brow. “You might be right about him hiding something. I sensed it. Something mysterious in his eyes. Those dark eyes.”

  Genie clicked her tongue. “You poor thing. I’m so sorry this happened to you. It’s going to be okay.”

  On her way out of the room, she patted him on the knee. After she left, the front door creaked, and her loudest voice bellowed. “Dan, come back!”

  She returned and sat on the couch. “He’ll be here in a minute.”

  “Why did you call him? Did he hear you?”

  “He never goes far.”

  The front door squeaked. Dan and Taco stuck their heads around the corner. “What’s the matter?”

  “We’re having a little get-together. You’re going to invite this Josh person to dinner with us, and just by chance, Steve will be there. Got it?”

  “Yeah, I got it. Whatever you want.” Taco danced and wagged his tale.

  Chapter 10

  The Diavel screamed along the rock road. It coursed the spine of the bluff. Teeth rattled. Muscles shook. On one side, calico cliffs caught the rising sun; on the other, Las Vegas Valley stretched to the east. Morning rays broke above Sunrise Mountain.

  Something on Josh’s mind, he needed to make a choice. The ride didn’t help. Fresh air and open spaces failed to dissipate his doubt. He couldn’t leave it behind.

  He liked to bike in dawn’s dim light before it got hot. Now time to go back, he pulled onto pavement and descended the valley’s rim. A yawn came over him and rounded out a full night: dinner with the clowns after the show, workout at the gym, grocery shopping and chores, then this relaxing ride under the gray sky. A jackrabbit raced across the road. A raven took flight.

  Home, he pulled the bike up on the stoop and unlocked the door to his old Huntridge cottage. Since he got a crime report from the neighbor, he brought his friend in with him. Safer inside than under the carport, they could see each other this way.

  A carpet runner spared the blond wood floor, original to the house. They did things differently seventy years ago when this neighborhood rose from the desert. Few bothered with garages, or so the neighbor told him over the fence one day.

  The door shut on his narrow street, quiet with little traffic. Nothing but silence welcomed him in the living room. Around the wall to the kitchen, he took a damp cloth, came back, and wiped the dust from the bike. A good friend since he’d seen it on that street in Naples, the black and gray lines spoke to him. He knew he must have it, or one like it at least.

  This one, a brother to the first, found its way to Las Vegas. The dealership had it on hand and told Josh his name was all over it. They were meant to be.

  He toyed with the sporty off-road model but settled on the cruiser, the Diavel. Any Ducati guaranteed off-road agility and racing speed, so he found no regrets in his choice during their rides together. On dirt roads and rocky trails, they explored much of the mountain terrain around the city.

  He dropped the rag and turned to the quiet room. The orange draper sofa and glass-topped table stood empty. Burdened by the stillness, he should adopt a pet. A cat or dog would do him good, or maybe a boyfriend instead. A cat suited his nature, but would it greet him? A dog or boyfriend might prove more fun, the dog the more reliable choice.

  He’d never had a pet. The constant touring and the curse prevented it, except to befriend a stray now and again for a day or two. Here in Las Vegas for the first time, he’d settled down with a residency in a long-running show and in a residence on a quiet street. Something was missing.

  He took his phone from its cradle on the bike and pulled up Steve’s number. About to call, his uncle’s ring came to mind. It was lost. He would search one more time.

  Down the short corridor to Alfonso’s room, sparsely furnished, bed and dresser, he tried to spot a place he’d missed. Among the frames on the wall, his mother and father’s wedding picture reflected the light from the hall.

  They looked so young. He missed her so, and flashed back to the hospital. They’d tried to prepare him. Though a child, he was old enough to understand what was happening, if not enough to comprehend the grief until it hit. Whoever was ready for that? A tear ran down his cheek. His father had called the cancer a curse. Music rang behind him. He turned and looked out the door.

  The hallway silenced and hinted at the light on the wall. Something shadowed in the sconce through its crystal shade. He went near and his hand reached over the glass and down past the bulb. His finger touched the circle and pulled it out. He’d seen it long ago, the strange etching inside the gold band.

  He should have known. If his uncle hid it in the bedroom where no one would find it, then look in the hall. He slipped it on. A perfect fit on the right ring finger, he would wear it.

  With arm extended out in front of him, the back of his hand bent up and displayed the subtle relief, columns and filigree. He ran a finger across the pattern’s rise, barely palpable. Neither could he discern the letters, which rested against his skin along the inside band. He must find an interpreter, but first he needed to feel the morning sun. It helped him sleep.

  Through the kitchen to the laundry room, he grabbed a towel from the dryer. Out the back door, he spread it on the lounge chair’s multicolored bands. A little patch of grass in the soft sun tickled his toes as he took off the other boot and sock. Then both feet cooled in the green as everything else came off. Mike, the neighbor, didn’t mind, the only one who looked over the high fence.

  The sun’s caress relaxed him, and no sooner, the phone rang. He pulled it from a pocket in the pile. “Hello.”

  “Hi. You still up?”

  Yes, obviously, he’d answered the phone. It was Dan. Josh’s sixth sense rose a red flag. “What’s the matter?”

  “My wife wants to meet some of my friends from work, so she’s planning a dinner for Steve.”

  “Steve?” There wasn’t a Steve at work. Their show had no Steve.

  Dan stumbled and stuttered. “Did I say Steve?”

  “Yes, who’s Steve?”

  “Don’t tell my wife I told you. It’s Steve the realtor.”

  Clearly, Dan’s wife put him up to this. From Josh’s little knowledge of her, she always got her way with Dan. Josh stalled. “I’m pretty busy this month.”

  “You’ve got to help me out. Genie’s going to be mad. I can’t believe I let the cat out of the bag. She wanted a surprise.”

  “It is,” Josh said. He never socialized with Dan, let alone Dan’s wife. Now they tried to fix him up with their friend, Steve. That could be a good thing
or a bad thing, but awkward no matter what. “Does Steve know?”

  “Yeah, my wife says he wants to see you.”

  Josh needn’t avoid him. Steve might be his realtor. Rude to decline. Dan was a good guy, and they’d worked together so long. Josh would put it off a few weeks and cancel later if needed. “Sure. How about the thirteenth.”

  “Thanks Josh. Remember, don’t tell Genie! Act surprised.”

  “I’ll do my best.” He wasn’t going to lose any sleep over it.

  “Okay. Thanks again. Bye Josh.”

  The call disconnected. He made a note in his calendar.

  A movement caught Josh’s eye. Mike peered over a fence board. No surprise, Mike might as well live in his backyard. “Hi Mike.” Between his uncle and this neighbor, his life overflowed with old people. They could be so obtuse sometimes. Or was it abstruse? Maybe both? Both.

  A branch of bougainvillea waved beside a strand of Mike’s white hair. The vine didn’t grow there. He must have cut it and held it in his hand behind the fence. On Mike’s other side, a long-stemmed rose stuck up. Red, these grew where they stood. The petals fell.

  Clippers appeared by the rose and snipped it. “This one’s past its prime,” Mike said. “It’s going in the compost pile.”

  Josh’s eyes grew weary. He closed them. No worries sleeping in the sun, just a minute. Mike would wake him if he slept too long. That is, if he got to sleep in the first place, not likely with all the chatter.

  “I saw your uncle the other day when I visited a friend. He says you’re getting married.”

  Josh’s eyes startled open. He jolted up. So much for sleeping. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

  “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. You spend too much time alone.” Mike rested his forearm on the fencepost. The bougainvillea hung over.

  “How would you know?”

  “I’m the only one who’s ever here. If you’re not getting married, you should think about it.”

  “It’s complicated.” He lay back down on his side away from Mike and resisted an urge to cover up, something he shouldn’t have to worry about in the privacy of his own backyard. He tried to relax.