Remember My Name

by Laurencia Hoffman

  With a roll of his eyes, he grabbed the glass and tucked it behind the counter, out of view from potential customers.

  Only God knew why he put himself in these situations. Why did he feel like he was going to end up babysitting a grown man?

  When he’d closed up shop for the day, Shane returned home only to prepare for another outing.

  After filling his backpack with the essentials – water, his medication, snacks, his fully charged cell-phone, and a flashlight, Shane ventured outside to hit one of his favorite trails. It had become his favorite because in all the times he’d walked through it, there hadn’t been another soul. That was the way he liked it because it was supposed to be his time for peace and quiet. Sharing his favorite spot with Cal was going to be a challenge, but one that he was up for.

  Two miles into the trail, he stopped when seeing a man with a camera. Even from behind, the man looked like a work of art.

  Unexpectedly, another man approached Callan and mumbled something. Cal laughed, clapped the man on the back, and said something in response. Then the man continued on his way, oblivious to Shane’s presence.

  He thought about turning around right then and there, throwing in the towel on this whole thing. But Cal turned and flashed him a smile. And that was the end of that thought.

  Shane pursed his lips, not knowing what to say. How exactly should he handle this situation? He was disappointed, though he had no right to be – he had known that Cal was well sought after. Always had been. As much as he flat out wanted to ask who that other man was, it was not his place, and if he didn’t want people prying into his life, he couldn’t very well pry into theirs.

  “This is my favorite trail because it’s usually empty. Seeing the, uh...two of you here has thrown me off a bit. I, uh-” He jerked his thumb in the direction behind him. “I should head back.”

  Cal furrowed his brow. “But you just got here. That was my friend. He’s very, very straight, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “I’m not worried about anything,” he snapped. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  Cal heaved a sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. “Would it be okay if I walked with you?”

  How could Shane say no when he’d asked permission? He was a sucker for people abiding by his rules. It meant that they had listened, that they gave a shit. “Sure.”

  It seemed like much longer than a two mile walk back to the entrance. His pride wouldn’t allow him to carry on with their day as planned. What little confidence he’d had was shaken by seeing that other man, even though he believed Callan.

  “You were quick to tell me how straight your friend was,” Shane said. “Does that mean you’ve assumed I’m not?”

  “Well, I’m not. So, by the way we’ve spoken, I guess I did make an assumption and I shouldn’t have.”

  “No sweat.” Shane shrugged. “I’m bisexual and I’m very comfortable with the idea. My mom, however, is not. She struggles between staying true to her religion and staying true to her son.”

  “I’m sorry. I know how parents can be. I was in denial for a while, but I’ve come to the determination that I’m also bisexual, and I lean toward men. But I’m not comfortable with it at all and neither are my parents.”

  As far as he was concerned, Callan’s parents were the reason their relationship had ended in the first place. “Sorry to hear that.”

  The silence that followed didn’t bother him because he was used to it, but it seemed to bother Cal, who spoke up.

  “It’s going to be a long walk back if you don’t want to talk to me.”

  Shane opened his mouth to speak and then closed it, needing another moment to gather his thoughts. “It’s not that I don’t want to talk to you, but it’s not...I’m not...” Clearly, he needed more time to consider his response.

  The only people he held back for were his niece and nephew; everyone else got the same treatment. But there were moments in time, just like this one, where he tried to explain his actions or allude to the reasons behind his behavior. And, as always, he kept it vague, feeling unsafe, and stopped before he went too deep.

  “You seem good. And I’m not good.” Clearing his throat, he squinted with the sun in his eyes. “But we could be friends if you don’t mind hanging around a rude, sarcastic asshole.”

  He stopped and gently placed his hand on the younger man’s arm. “I don’t know why you would say you’re not good and that I am. I think you have that twisted.” His touch lingered just long enough to make it awkward before they continued on. “I don’t mind being around you. In fact, it’s refreshing. The exercise might kill me if this becomes a regular thing though.”

  “I need to exercise but take it easy. Doctor’s orders. That’s what they tell me, just relax, don’t stress out.” Shoving his hands into his pockets to hide his fidgeting fingers, he trudged down the trail, gaze staring straight ahead. “I hate it when they tell me that. It’s not like people can help how they feel.”

  “Do you have trouble relaxing?”

  “You could say that. And yourself?”

  “Oh, yeah. That would be an understatement. My friends frequently accuse me of having a stick up my ass.”

  “That’s funny,” he said with a smirk. “Considering our conversation earlier, I wouldn’t think you’d mind having something up your ass.”

  Callan struggled getting words out of his mouth as his cheeks turned red. “Not sticks. Never sticks. Do you have any idea how rough they are?”

  “Ah, so you don’t like it rough?” Shane smirked again seeing the rest of Cal’s face join the color of his cheeks. “That’s good to know. For future reference.”

  “Can we talk about something else?”

  “Sure. How’s work?”

  “Remember, me, stick? Work does that.”

  “Sounds like you have the wrong job.”

  “Well, we can’t all afford to sell rocks. No matter how much we’d like to. You should see my bills.”

  “I guess that’s why I sell rocks. I live a very simple life.” He shrugged. “Materiel things mean nothing to me.”

  “Consider yourself lucky.” Cal paused and pursed his lips. “You seem happy with who you are. I am anything but.”

  He raised his brow. “You don’t like yourself?”

  “No. Couldn’t you tell?”

  “You seem so...confident.” Shane’s gaze wandered over him. “I guess I’m at peace with who I am because I’m unwilling to change. But I never said I liked who I am.”

  “Well, I do.” Cal looked at him. “Very much.”

  They came to the entrance sign which meant that it was time to part ways. And while Shane always missed him, this time was different than the previous ones. His chest felt heavy. He didn’t want to leave, but he couldn’t bring himself to say those words.

  “Well...” There was a long pause before he continued. “See you next time, Cal.”

  “There will be a next time, right?”

  “There has to be,” he answered softly. “I don’t think I could stand it if there wasn’t.”

  Following the directions that Peter had given him, Shane found himself on a private runway. It took him a moment to realize that he and his boss would be the only people on the plane, other than the pilot.

  “What the fuck?”

  Peter slapped him on the back and then motioned for him to follow up the stairs and into the aircraft. “I have a private jet. Did I forget to mention that?”

  “Uh...yeah.” With a shake of his head, Shane stepped onto the jet. It looked nicer than his apartment. And most houses he’d seen. “I didn’t know the shop was doing that well.”

  “It isn’t. This is old money, kid. My family’s swimming in it.”

  “You learn something new every day.” He sat down across from Peter, furrowing his brow, his mouth open in awe. “I don’t feel like I know you at all.”

  “Well, that’s the point of this trip.” Peter chuckled and offered him a drink. “To get
to know each other.”

  “You do know that you’re contributing to pollution, right?” He took the drink even though he couldn’t have it.

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  Shane shifted in his seat because he was supposed to get the okay from his doctor before traveling, and he hadn’t done that. Now he was nervous, not because something might happen, but because Peter had no idea about his condition. He didn’t like showing any kind of vulnerability in front of people in general, and especially not people he didn’t know well.

  “Don’t tell me you’re an anxious flier,” Peter said with a laugh.

  “No, I’m just-” He pursed his lips. It would have been so easy to tell him, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to do so. “Still uncomfortable with this whole thing, I guess.”

  “Relax, kid. This is supposed to be fun.”

  “Right.” He swallowed hard before handing the drink back to Peter. “I didn’t really want that, I was just being polite.”

  “Well, I appreciate your honesty. More for me.”

  After Peter downed two more drinks, the plane took off. Shane waited for the pilot to give them permission to move before he helped himself to the couch.

  “Will you be offended if I catch up on sleep?” he asked as he closed his eyes.

  “Nah,” Peter responded. “I’ve got plenty to keep me busy for a while. Sleep away.”

  Hours later, Shane woke with a gasp. It took several long breaths before he remembered where he was, and that he was safe.

  “Christ, kid. Was the boogie man after you?”

  Wiping his hand over his pale face, he sat up. “Something like that.”

  Peter lifted his chin. “Who’s Jake?”

  He swallowed hard. “What?”

  “You mumbled that name.”

  “Um...nothing.” Closing his eyes, he shook his head. “I mean, no one.”

  “Alright.” Setting a magazine onto the empty seat next to him, Peter leaned forward toward the couch. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

  He lifted his head. “Yeah, I haven’t been getting a lot of sleep lately.”

  “Neither have I.” He motioned to the seat opposite him. “You should buckle up, we’re about to land.”

  Shane was quick to move back into the seat. He took solace in the distraction of the window.

  “Do you have nightmares?”

  “Yeah, kid.” He tapped his temple. “I’ve got boogiemen too.”

  “Do you ever turn the tables on them?”

  “Sometimes.” Peter shrugged. “But more often than not, they win. Just like in real life.”

  “Yeah,” he said with a scoff. “You’re preaching to the choir.”

  There was relief when the plane landed. Shane felt like he could breathe again. They got into a cab and he checked his phone, not at all surprised that he’d missed a call from his mother.

  “I’m going to meet up with some friends in the city,” Peter said, also checking his phone. “You’re welcome to join.”

  Shane raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t have any friends.”

  “I do in New York.” He turned to look at him. “Do you have friends?”

  “Not in New York.” Shane smirked. “Are you concerned about my social life?”

  “Let’s just say I’ve noticed how much you work. And I don’t want to be your excuse for missing out on life.”

  “Believe me, you’re the least of my problems.”

  When they reached the hotel, Peter mumbled the accommodations to the receptionist. Shane wasn’t paying much attention; he only knew to take the key and head to the room.

  It hadn’t necessarily been an unbearably long trip, but when he wasn’t feeling well, and he was heading into something he really didn’t want to do, that made it seem like forever.

  Hearing the clicking of the closed door behind him, he breathed a sigh of relief and rolled his suitcase over to the closet area.

  He turned on some lights, and then furrowed his brow, confused as to why there seemed to be so much space. This was certainly more than he was used to, and a far cry from his shitty apartment. This place was too good for him. He felt like sitting in the chair, or on the bed, or even using the bathroom would ruin the place just because he’d touched it.

  “What the fuck,” he muttered as he left his duffle bag on the floor. How he wished that Peter could have booked a room at a motel. Or a hostel. Anything but this. He didn’t feel deserving of it.

  With a groan, he threw himself onto the bed and closed his eyes. His head was throbbing and it would have been so easy to fall asleep, considering this was the most comfortable mattress he’d ever laid on.

  Then he heard the click again, only this time, it came from the side wall. When a door opened, he realized that his room was adjoining to the room beside it. And Peter was standing in the doorway.

  His jaw clenched and he was tempted to give the older man a piece of his mind. Something about choices and decisions, but Peter wouldn’t understand any of that. And, after all, he was lucky that Peter had been nice enough to book him a room in the first place.

  For his own peace of mind, he would have preferred to know about the rooms ahead of time. Someone having access to him at any and all times felt like a serious intrusion. This reminded him of things he’d rather forget – of being watched, of things coming with strings attached. But Peter meant no harm. He knew that.

  Instead of lashing out, he smirked and put his hands behind his aching head. “Wow, I didn’t know this room came with a personal butler.”

  “You wish.” Peter stepped in his room, arms folded. “I’m sure your mother would kill me if anything happened to you. And since I invited you here, I thought it’d be a good idea to remain...close.”

  “What are you, my fucking babysitter?” Shane rolled his eyes. “What do you know about my mom anyway?”

  “Uh...I know that she’d kill me if anything happened to you.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I’m a parent.”

  Shane pursed his lips, unsure whether or not he was surprised by that response. “And?”

  “And I feel responsible for you. But if it really bothers you, I’ll change rooms.”

  “It’s fine,” he grumbled as he sat up. “Just ask me next time.”

  “You got it, kid.”

  “And stop calling me kid, old man.”

  “That, I can’t promise.” Peter pulled the wallet from his pocket and handed Shane a credit card. “I have a few. I’m giving you this one for the weekend as long as you agree to try to have fun.”

  For a moment, he stared at it, unsure if it was a real offer or not. Now, this, he could accept. Options. Choices. The freedom to do whatever he wanted. How could he turn that down?

  “Well, thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  “But if we don’t know each other very well yet, how am I supposed to know what you would and wouldn’t do?” he asked with a sly smile.

  Peter gave him a look. “Drugs. I’m talking about drugs.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m not into that shit. Besides, I don’t know if dealers accept credit cards.” He flashed a grin before tucking the card into his bag of essentials.

  As soon as Peter left to dinner, Shane took his daily dose of medication – one of several – and then headed out for the evening, ready for a night of fun and forgetting his troubles.

  This was every young person’s wish – an unlimited budget. And what did young people typically do? Drink and do drugs. Both things that were off-limits for someone in his condition. There were times when he broke those rules, but he never went overboard. If there was one thing he was good at, it was self-control. At least, he liked to think so.

  Troublemaker Shane didn’t need drugs or alcohol to have a good time. With Peter’s magical card, he took a few liberties and didn’t feel guilty about it. He went shopping, ate the most expensive food he could
find, dropped the new additions to his home collection at the hotel, and then went to a club. What else was there to do at night than dance in a room full of loud, sweaty people?

  Night had become early morning and he needed sleep. Before retiring to his hotel, he used the restroom, and on his way out, someone pushed the door open forcefully. The door hitting his face made his eyes water. It shouldn’t have been a big deal; the guy hadn’t done it on purpose. The good thing was that it didn’t really hurt after the initial sting, and after checking in the mirror, he knew his nose wasn’t broken. And then he felt it, not just a trickle or slow drip, but a rush of blood.

  As he pulled off his jacket, bunched it into his hands and pressed it to his nostrils, the horrified stranger apologized profusely.

  “Don’t worry, it’s not you, it’s me.” He pushed past the stranger and the few people waiting outside the men’s room, trying to think of a plan. His doctor had told him to go straight to the emergency room in an event like this, but what could they do for him? Prescribe more medication? The ones he was on could only do so much, though quitting them would shorten his life. And adding to them wouldn’t change anything. What a mess.

  After squeezing through the hoard of young people who didn’t have a care in the world, he stood outside the building and contemplated whether or not to call Peter.

  He didn’t want to kill the old man’s buzz – surely, he had one if he was out with friends. Or maybe he really was old and had been in bed for hours. Either way, Shane didn’t feel right about disturbing him.

  Taking a deep breath of fresh air, the world around him was going in and out of focus. He could get a taxi but was worried that he, should he become lightheaded, would be unable to give an address or pay the driver. Maybe texting Peter was an option. Something like, ‘my nose won’t stop bleeding, can you come and get me?’

  Jesus, no. That sounded childish. Why would one adult ask another adult to pick him up when they were still, in his mind, strangers?

  A taxi it was. He managed to successfully give the driver the name of his hotel, and was dropped off in one piece. Being alone in the room made him feel slightly better.

  Blood was dripping down his nostrils. Growling in frustration, he grabbed one of the hand towels. The bathroom was starting to look like a crime scene. He was past the point of concern – anyone in their right mind would have gone to the hospital.