Mason's Run

by Mellanie Rourke

“Oh god, that’s sad…” Mason said, shaking his head as he dropped it into his hands.

  “Well, what do you think is the hottest pickup line?” I demanded.

  “No question… ‘You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss your liiips’,” Mason warbled.

  I laughed. Of course, he was a Top Gun fan. We were still playing twenty questions when we pulled onto Market Street.

  Twin Peeks was located in an area of Akron known as Highland Square, which was a wonderfully eclectic area. It was home to all kinds of great restaurants, quirky stores, and one-of-a-kind artisans.

  The twins had been fortunate enough to get a community block grant to partially fund the purchase and renovation of a building that had once been a hardware store. The area typically had a lot of foot traffic, but now there was even more than normal. A line of people wrapped around the store front and down the block past the library. The line was as long as it had been yesterday, if not longer.

  From the variety of rainbow-hued clothing, skin and hair it was easy to guess who they were here for.

  As we pulled in around the corner from the library, Mason looked around curiously.

  “What’s the line for?” he asked.

  I glanced back at him for a second, not sure if he was putting me on or not.

  “You know what it’s for,” I said, turning the steering wheel as we rounded the block.

  He shook his head, then his eyes went wide, his already-pale face went even more pale, and a squeak escaped his lips.

  “…Me? They’re here for me?” he asked. I could see the pulse in his neck start to beat frantically.

  I nodded and saw him reach almost automatically for his phone.

  “Hey,” I said, grabbing his hand with mine. “You can do this. You don’t need an app to get through this,” I said, jerking my chin towards his phone. He seemed frozen for a moment, his hands gone ice cold under my touch, his eyes wide. I could see his pulse racing in his neck.

  I drove around the block for a minute to give us time to talk. We parked in a side alley, the edge of the parking lot just out of sight of the line. Mason was breathing fast, his eyes shut, his lips pressed together. Shit, he was going to have another panic attack.

  “Mason,” I said softly, but continued a little sharper when he didn’t respond, not quite my drill sergeant voice, but close. “Mason!”

  He jumped and looked at me, his eyes so wide you could see the whites all the way around, his perfect pink lips flushed and slightly parted. Part of me wanted so badly to cover his mouth with my own and kiss away his fears. God, what was wrong with me?

  “Look at me,” I said, snapping my fingers in his face to get his attention.

  “Haven’t you ever done one of these before?” I asked, incredulous. I’d been going to cons my whole life, and my brothers had said Mason was super famous. How could he have never done something like this?

  He sat still, then shook his head before he began speaking.

  “I… No… never. We… we kept putting them off,” he shook his head setting his phone on his lap then running his hand through his hair. I loved how it curled as his anxious fingers wrapped and unwrapped it, the thick blue-black strands stretched and pulled between his anxious fingers.

  “I’m… I’m kind of agoraphobic,” he admitted. “Lizzie, she’s my manager, she said I had to start doing them,” he managed. “She said the new publisher was going to drop us…me if I didn’t start holding signings and meet-and-greets. I’ve always managed to beg off before, said I was sick, but she told me they’d given us an ultimatum, and that if I didn’t start attending, they’d drop us. I thought I was going to be able to do this one trip to St. Louis a few weeks ago, but… I didn’t make it.”

  “What happened?” I asked, my voice low and soft.

  “I freaked out in the terminal of the airport,” he said, eyes on his hands. “Lizzie tried to bring me out of it, but she couldn’t.” Mason sighed. “That was really fun explaining to the TSA.”

  He bit his lower lip, his teeth worrying at it.

  “I started a new counselor, who was helping me work on it. Agoraphobia, I mean,” he said, glancing at me. “I’m not afraid of big open spaces. I just… I don’t do well with crowds.” He sighed. “I’ve been getting better, but this was supposed to be my first quasi-solo role…” he hesitated. “Lizzie was going to come with me, but her mom got sick at the last minute,” he paused, suddenly seeming to notice I was still holding his hand, and a red tinge crept up his formerly pale features. “She thought… She thought I could handle it.”

  He pulled his hand loose, then grabbed his other arm with it.

  “I guess she was wrong,” he was looking anywhere but at me.

  The defeat I saw written on his face tugged at my chest. This man had survived things that would have broken most other people. There was no way I was letting him feel like shit for no reason.

  “Mason,” I said softly. “You can do this. I know you can. Just take it one person at a time.”

  Mason snorted at me.

  “How? What makes you so certain I can do this?” he asked, annoyance at my optimism sneaking into his voice. “I don’t even think I can do this!”

  “I have faith in you,” I said simply.

  “Why?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly. “You’ve known me less than twenty-four hours, and in that time all I’ve done is be a total freak. I barely handled the flight here. I couldn’t even manage to get to the store on my own. I couldn’t walk into a hotel room without spazzing out. Fuck!” he yelled in frustration, his palm slamming down on the dashboard. “Why did I think I was going to be able to do this? All I do is write stupid stories and draw stupid pictures.” Tears threatened to spill from his eyes.

  “That doesn’t sound like you talking… that sounds like…” I hesitated, thinking it sounded like Ricky, but not ready yet to acknowledge our history. “That sounds like someone who is small, nasty and mean. Someone envious of your talent and abilities. Someone may have put those thoughts in your head, but they aren’t yours.”

  I touched his chin and tipped his head back until he was looking directly at me. His bright blue eyes were gorgeous. Somehow being a bit red from the tears he was holding back made the blue deepen and the gold ring around his pupils extra prominent in the morning sun. God, he was beautiful! I shifted in the seat, my cock thickening uncomfortably. I cursed myself, because dammit, this was not about that! I tried desperately to rein in my libido as I looked into his eyes.

  I leaned toward him, hoping to distract him so he wouldn’t see the bulge forming in my pants, and my hand slid around the back of his neck and did something I’d been wanting to for a while… I brought our foreheads together until they were touching. I could feel his breath coming hot and fast against my skin and felt the leap of his pulse under my touch. I wanted desperately to brush my lips against his, but I knew I hadn’t earned that right.

  My eyes were drawn to his lips, and I noticed how dry and chapped they looked, like he had been worrying them with his teeth. Mason glanced down at my lips, and I saw his tongue dart out to wet his own. Fuck, he was killing me. The air was electric, the car suddenly too hot despite the air conditioning still blasting from the vents.

  “You…” I finally continued. “You are anything but small. You are kind. You are compassionate. You inspire people to do good. You help people see the best side of themselves. You inspire them to be the best side of themselves. You… You are a Hero.”

  We sat there a few minutes, eyes locked on each other. I felt the muscles in his neck clench tight at first, as his eyes seemed to search my face for something. After a time, I saw a change in his expression. Some resolve seemed to coalesce in his eyes and he nodded. I released the hold on the back of his neck, my hand tingling where I’d held him

  “Now just go in there, take it one person at a time. Find out their stories. Once you know most people, it’s kind of hard to be afraid of them.”

  I turned back
in my seat, put the car in drive and pulled around to a side alley that led to the back of the store.

  I parked in the employee parking area and we went in the back door of Twin Peeks. The funny logo the boys had made stamped on the back door. It was two boys, their heads together, their eyes peeking out from behind the comic they held in their hands. It was so much like a picture we had of the boys when they were young that I figured they must have used it as a model.

  I helped Mason get his things into the store. I thought for a minute that Sonny and Hicks were going to jump up and down like schoolgirls when we walked in, but they managed to play it cool. Just barely. When Mason shook their hands, I thought I heard Sonny squeal.

  They had planned on putting Mason at the front of the store, but I convinced them it made more sense to have him sit in a private area in the back which we normally reserved for card gaming.

  We set Mason up with a table, a pile of prints for him to autograph and stacks of his books to sell. Behind him was a huge print of the cover of his latest graphic novel. I took the guys aside and told them in no uncertain terms that we were limiting the number of people who could be in the store at any one time. They seemed a little confused at me taking the role of security, but years of obedience to their oldest brother had been ingrained in them. They knew better than to argue with me.

  When they finally unlocked the door and started letting people into the store, Mason tensed, but when I saw who the first customer was, I couldn’t have planned this better myself. She was one of our few employees and regular customers, Jeri.

  Jeri was a fifteen-year-old trans girl. She was about five feet four with straight blue hair that was only just starting to grow out of a super short boy cut. The twins had sort of adopted her when they’d met at an LGBTQ support group at the downtown library.

  Jeri had discovered comics and become engrossed in the stories, spending so much time at the store, we’d talked her into taking a part-time position as we prepared for the Grand Opening of the new location. She had come out to her parents as trans only a little earlier in the summer. Her boyfriend, Tobi, was behind her in the line.

  Jeri had been terribly afraid of coming out to her parents. We’d known her family for years. Her mom and dad had managed one of the original dojo locations for my moms. While her family were religious, they had never come across as cruel or prejudiced. They had always been friendly and kind to my parents and my brothers and sisters. The twins and I had helped Jeri have “The Talk” with her parents where she came out as trans, and then helped connect them to resources in the area to support both them and their daughter during this challenging time. They had handled the news much better than anyone, especially Jeri, had expected, more confused about terminology and what it actually meant to be trans, than anything else. They had hugged their daughter and let her know that they loved and supported her no matter what gender she identified as. I knew Jeri was really lucky. So often it seemed that our parents, and hers, were the exceptions in accepting their children.

  Jeri walked through the doors and came to a stop as she saw Mason. Her eyes went wide and she froze in the doorway. I’d known she had a serious case of hero worship when it came to Mason, but I’d never seen her this uncertain or unsure of herself.

  I couldn’t have found a better person to get Mason out of his own head. He saw her freeze outside the door to the alcove where his table was located. As soon as Mason saw Jeri, he smiled. Jeri was very slim, just starting that gangly phase of adolescence that let you begin to glimpse the person they would become in five or ten years.

  “Hi!” Mason said, sending a small, shy wave her way.

  “…Hey,” she squeaked, her voice breaking, and I could see her hand was shaking where she held a dog-eared copy of Mason’s book.

  “I’m Mason,” he said softly.

  “Of course, you’re Mason. I mean, you look just like him.” She lifted the graphic novel in her hand, which held a small photo of Mason on the back of it. “Not that you have to look like this, of course, because, who knows how real things are with Photoshop and all, but I did see some pictures in the Comics Guide a few months ago, but I didn’t know when the photos were taken and you could have looked completely different by now. I mean…” she continued, barely pausing for breath. “I change my hair color like, all the time, so why couldn’t you? And I’m really babbling, aren’t I?” She stopped suddenly and clamped her lips together tightly. “I do this. I babble. When I’m nervous. I’m Jeri.”

  “Well, you want to know a secret, Jeri?” Mason asked, leaning forward on the table. Her eyes were wide, and she nodded jerkily.

  “I’m nervous, too.” Her eyes got even wider at the disclosure. “Terrified, actually. I’m not really good around groups of people, so the thought of meeting everyone out there…” Mason gestured at the line of people outside the store. “…makes me kinda sick to my stomach.”

  “But…” she looked him up and down, puzzlement in her expression. “But why? They… we… are all here because we like you. Like your work, I mean” she said, her hand jerkily waving at the stacks of books and artwork.

  “Good question. I wish I knew the answer to it. I think maybe it’s because I’m afraid I’ll never live up to their idea of me. And the thought of meeting this many people scares me, but…” He glanced over at me as I glared at a couple of agitated and excited teens waiting in line, quelling their exuberant spirits with a look. “…a smart man once told me to take it one step at a time. One person at a time. I figure the only way I’m going to get over being scared of people, is to meet more of them,” Mason replied. “Because once you get to know most people, it’s hard to be scared of them. Take Lee over there…”

  He nodded toward me, and Jeri’s eyes flitted over for a moment, her posture relaxing and her lips not quite so tight anymore. We had spent a lot of time working on the store together.

  “I was scared to death of him a day ago, but today, I know he’s a pretty nice guy who is obsessed with tiny robots.”

  Mason grinned at me and Jeri smiled. She had seen my Transformer collection when I’d moved it from my parents’ house to mine. “Kind of hard to be afraid of a guy who likes tiny robots,” she agreed.

  They both nodded and grinned, and she shyly put her book on the table for Mason to sign. Her boyfriend, Tobi, watched us with a wistful look on his face.

  “Do you have something you’d like me to sign?” Mason asked. Tobi shook his head. “No, I’m not allowed… I can’t… um…” He looked around a little frantically. Jeri had slipped over to the cash register where the twins were busy ringing up customers. Mason slipped a copy of his latest book onto the table. “I just wondered… wondered if you really believed everything you write.”

  Mason looked up at the kid solemnly and nodded. “I do believe what I write. Was there something specific you were interested in?”

  “You write about God and souls…” the kid said, his voice trailing off.

  “Yep, I believe we have souls,” Mason answered.

  “Do you believe in God? Or some Higher Power? Do you think souls can really go to hell for eternity?” he asked Mason earnestly. “I mean, people hurt… um, kids… and stuff. Abuse them. How can a Higher Power let that happen?”

  Tobi looked so serious, so intent as he spoke to Mason. I made a mental note to talk to Jeri about Tobi’s home life.

  “What’s your name?” Mason asked.

  “Um, Tobi…” the kid said, his eyes wide.

  “Hi Tobi,” he said, smiling. “I don’t know if I believe in God, but I do believe in a Higher Power.”

  Mason wrote something inside the book and handed it to Tobi.

  “I don’t have any money…” Tobi started, and Mason waved him off.

  “It’s a gift,” Mason said, smiling.

  Tobi read the inscription, his eyes flashing back up to Mason’s, some kind of connection apparent there. It was like one old soul recognized another.

  “Thank you,”
he whispered.

  Mason just nodded solemnly.

  Jeri came back over and the two took turns taking selfies with Mason before heading out and letting the next set of customers in.

  As Mason continued to sign autographs for people, I asked Tobi if I could see what Mason had written.

  In neat, even handwriting, I read the inscription. “For Tobi - Keep believing in a Higher Power - because the Highest Power is Love. Given enough time and effort, our souls will escape whatever hell we find ourselves in.” I watched as Tobi clutched the book to himself like a lifeline as he left.

  The rest of the day passed in a blur. We stopped counting people when we got over two hundred. Mason handled it all like a pro. If he hadn’t told me of his fears, or if I hadn’t seen him in the car, I would never have guessed he struggled with anxiety. I kept a close eye on him throughout the day though, a couple of times calling for breaks when I thought he might be reaching his breaking point. I walked him out back to give him a break from the crowds, but after a few minutes he was always ready to head back in.

  Well after the originally planned four-hour session, the twins were closing the doors and turning the Open sign to Closed as the last of the customers left.

  Jeri and Tobi stayed to help clean up the store. I watched them in amusement, their affection for each other obvious.

  Mason had insisted on seeing everyone who had been in line since he had missed yesterday’s session. It meant a lot to me that he realized the effect the missed event might have had on my brothers. He even signed a bunch of bookplates for the twins and left them for anyone who might not have been able to make it to today’s event.

  As I packed the last of his gear back into the Jeep, Mason shouldered his backpack.

  “Thank you,” he said, his eyes on the ground.

  I watched him for a minute, wishing he’d look up at me.

  “All I did was drive,” I said, closing the back of the Jeep.

  “You did a lot more than that,” he said, finally granting me my wish, his beautiful blue eyes looking up at me through his dark lashes. “And you damn well know it.” He reached out tentatively to touch my arm. His fingers brushed over my biceps and sent lightning bolts zinging through my body. “Seriously. Thank you.”