by Caldon Mull
“There’s more to this place, Doctor.” I decided that I was going to trust this little man and not punk out and pretend I had a cold or something, as I was planning to. “Let me show you before I get around to what’s the matter with me. Perhaps this place could be useful to you some day.”
“I thought you would be a difficult one, Mr. Finch.” Doctor Mason stood up “Rumour had it that you’re quite anti-social. I am p-pleasantly surprised at your character.”
“Ah, would you call me Andy?” I cranked open the inner hatch and reached inside fumbling for the light. I couldn’t reach it and had to clamber through into the room.
“No, that would be too familiar.” Doctor Mason shrugged, his head peeking into the darkness after me. “As long as I am your Doctor, I shall call you by your given name or you will be Mr. Finch. Nicknames tend to blur the relationship. Are you an ‘Andrew’ or an ‘Andre’?”
“Ummm... neither.” I followed the dim glow of the LED’s to the switch on the far side. I clicked it on. “Good Lord!” Doctor Mason gasped “What on earth...?” He looked around, then hopped up into the room and walked around.
“Ummm...” I sweated nervously while he poked around the radio set and the broadband router, shaking his head in amazement. “Ummm... my father was a classics buff, Doctor.” I chewed the inside of my cheek, wanting to answer him but dreading to. “Ummm... Ah...”
The stuffy little man turned and waited me out, looking like a parrot or some or other bird, head cocked. “Ah shoot, Doctor.” I took a deep breath “I hate my name. It’s ‘Andronicus’ like the Roman Caesar.”
“Well, yet another surprise, Mr. Finch.” The Doctor waved his hand around the room. “You certainly are full of them.”
“If... you ever need communications, I have the full suite. Water, power and some food too.” I breathed deeply, trying to forget I had just told him one of my closest guarded secrets. “For an emergency, or something.”
“Thank you... Andronicus.” He pierced me with his little bright stare. “Now shall we go and have a look at what’s bothering you?” I flinched when he called me that, then started to think. If he had prized my real name out of me, what difference would it make to me after that for him to peer up my ass?
“Yeah, Doctor. Thanks.” I left the light on and followed him meekly to the steps to the kitchen. Closing up, we dodged the rain to the warmth of the house and bumped into Michel sipping the gluhwine. He started as the door swung open.
“Oh, there you are.” Michel grinned, then saw the Doctor. “Hi Doctor.” His smile froze, a worried look flashed across his face “What’s up?”
“Hello, Michel.” Doctor Mason closed the door behind him, after wiping his feet on the mat. “That’s what I’m going to ask Mr. Finch. Could you give us some privacy?”
“No!” I muttered “No, no! Please, Doctor Mason, Michel is my house-mate and I don’t want there to be any secrets floating around between us while he’s staying here.” I took a deep breath “Also... please use my given Name. if... if you don’t mind.”
“Very well.” Doctor Mason moved past Michel and reached for his bag.
“I’m not sick, Doctor... but I think you’ve worked that one out by yourself. I’ve been... attacked and injured… and I want you to examine the damage.”
“Attacked! Who?” Michel’s voice deepened.
“Calm down, buddy.” I gripped his arm “Just calm down. I’ll tell you about it later. Right now just let the Doctor see to it and I’ll fill you in later, OK?”
“Yeah...” Michel frowned “OK, I... OK... You alright?”
“We’ll see.” Doctor Mason said, holding his bag with both hands in front of him “Andronicus? Shall we use your room?”
“Yeah, Doctor, I’m coming.” I nodded over my shoulder. I wagged a finger at Michel “Calm! Later!”
“Yeah! Calm!” Michel nodded, tension lines furrowed his face “Got it! Later.” He swung his arms, patted his fist in his palm and walked to the kitchen. The sound of dishes rattled in the room as I followed the doctor to my room. I closed the door and explained very briefly where I had been attacked and lay on the bed as he directed so he could have a look.
He ‘tsked’ and ‘hmmmed’ while he worked around the area, I tried not to flinch every time a cold metal implement touched my skin. He took to warning me before he brought anything new out of his case and I relaxed somewhat.
He told me I had a torn rectal wall, an anal fissure; and although not seriously rent could become infected and cause all sorts of other infections. He gave me an injection to numb the discomfit and put in a suppository. He wrote out a script I could fill at the hospital dispensary, and a course of antibiotics. His hands were gentle and his manner, professional.
“So tell me, Andronicus?” He shrugged nonchalantly while packing away his things. He was careful to place certain implements into blue and yellow bags “Where did you get this wound?”
“At the Company, Doctor. Why?” I shrugged as I pulled on a towel Robe.
“You haven’t said very much, but would it surprise you at all to learn that I’ve seen a few similar wounds these last five years, all of them from the Company?” He blinked at me through his lenses. I felt that he had dropped a weight on me from a thousand feet. Blood rushed in my ears and I could feel my fists clench.
“No.” I smiled tightly “No, I don’t think it would.”
“Of course you’re very fit and absurdly healthy, and your skin collagen levels are very high. I doubt there will be any other scarification. You’ll heal very well, probably overnight. Some other patients weren’t as lucky as you are.” He shrugged, suddenly looking very small. “Very well, then.” He stood up, packed and prim. “Stop by in tomorrow and I’ll check again. I will have a note booking you off for two days waiting for you.”
“Thank you, Doctor Mason.” I unclenched my hands and opened the door for him. There was a clatter of pots from the kitchen and Michel bolted into the Living Room, pale as a sheet. He hovered anxiously while the Doctor pulled his coat over his head and left. As soon as the lights pointed down the drive, he hugged me fiercely and muttered incoherently. I hugged him back, then gently pushed him away and wagged my pointed finger in his face.
“Calm!” I whispered.
“Yeah, calm!” he swallowed “Right, right... calm!”
“Calm, got it?” I hugged him and muttered in his ear.
“Wh... Who?... What?... Why would...?” he muttered, clinging to me, stroking the back of my neck tenderly. He took several deep breaths before sighing “OK, calm.”
“I have a Caesar Salad and some cheese in the icebox and garlic bread waiting in the warmer tray.” I pushed him away, tenderly “I’m fine, stud. I’m OK. Just give me a little space, for now.”
We sat at the table eating, the colour slowly moved back to his face and his hands stopped twitching. I tried not to look at him, because I felt him staring, trying to will the story out of me and I wanted to tell him, I really did. I just couldn’t. I had decided on a compromise, then I heard his fingers tapping on the table-top. It was driving me nuts, eventually I snapped.
“It’s my fucking name, OK?” I glared at him.
“Andronicus? Your name is And-ron-i-kus?” The finger-tapping stopped. I looked up. The concern was still there, but at least there was good humour riding over it. “I always hated ‘Michel’, its like, a girls name or a horny cat... ‘mee-shell’. Of course, they gave me so many other ones, I could always choose something else, if only I could remember them all. I think I was always fond of ‘Luca’.”
“Yeah, lucky-fucking-you.” I play-snarled at him, wrinkling my nose.
“So...” he grinned gleefully “I see your post is addressed to ‘AC’. Why don’t you use your middle name, then?”
“No, buddy.” I groaned, held my head in my hands “Not now.”
“C’mon, give me something here.” I looked up, sensing his mood change and he was being deadly serious, he wasn’t talking
about my names. “C’mon,” he whispered “Don’t shut me out. I know you will if I let you alone.” His grey eyes brimmed with tears. He reached over and took my hand. “C’mon.”
Suddenly my face didn’t feel like my own. It went cold and I couldn’t feel what it did while he watched me. “Jesus!” Michel hissed, eyes widening “You’re really scared!” I gripped his hand as my body trembled uncontrollably.
“I’ll tell you as soon as I’m not gonna puke.” I grated, my teeth rattling. He bent his head and rubbed his face with the hand I wasn’t mauling. Tears spilled onto his place mat. “...It’s Caifus...” He looked up red-eyed, a slow grin replaced his misery “And-ron-i-kus Kai-foos... No way!”
“...if you tell anyone else...” Michel hooted with laughter, a tense jittery laughter, but genuine... “Any- fucking-one-else...” I banged his hand on the table-top, and slowly a knot inside of me undid itself and I slowly felt laughter bubbling up, lubricating my battered soul.
Later, in the place where it was just the two of us, in the place where the rest of the world could get fucked; I told him what had happened to me. He held me while I cried like a small child and smoothed my hair until, exhausted, I fell asleep cradled in his strong, safe arms. I can’t say I slept. I remember dreaming, I remember being chased somewhere by someone or something. I sat bolt upright in bed, dripping with sweat. I was alone. The pounding in my head was my pulse. I patted the bed, Michel was gone. My heart rose in my throat in panic, then died away as I heard his voice on the phone.
“...yeah, well kid I think so.” His voice soft, but not whispering. There was a tone of something I’d not heard before, a brittleness. “I booked off too, yeah... no work at the Mill that ain’t washed out or not gonna get us killed. Mmm, yep. Oh? Is that a fact? I wouldn’t have thought... Well, that’s one more reason. Hmmm... no, he’s tough. No, I ain’t gonna tell ya... he will... when he’s ready. After lunch, probably. Cool then... Hmm? Me too, kid. Later.” I heard him walk through to the kitchen and clink glasses, and soon there was a smell of coffee and waffles. I got up, pulled on the robe and experimented with walking. I couldn’t feel much wrong, except for a cold feeling just below my kidneys. Various cramps and bruises also made themselves felt, but they were more from the weekends’ match than related to the latest series of injuries. Those were the ones I was worried about most. I walked through just as he gave a deep shuddering sigh and leaned over the wash basin, arms gripping the sides. I poured a cup of coffee, he closed his eyes, hung his head.
“It’s... very difficult... for me to be brave right now, Andy.” He gulped “What he done to you... is one of my greatest fears. When I was about twelve... some of the drunk mill rowdies caught me near the bar after I had sneaked out after bedtime to go and get a porno book from my friend up the next block. I was still in my PJ’s and I was creeping back with this fuck-mag hugged against my chest.” I watched him wrestle his demons, said nothing. “I... didn’t see them, and when I turned the corner, I bumped into them.
“I went flying and the mag went flying... and then they reckoned I ought to be punished for wanting to read something like that... you can guess how they were going to do it... they...” Michel gulped, then retched a dry heave into the basin, wiped foam from his mouth. “...they... reckoned they weren’t fags who were gonna fuck my ass... they...”
Michel retched again, waved me back “...s’alright... they... they were gonna fist my boy-ass ‘cause that’s what happens if ya gets caught.” He took a deep breath and turned to face me. I said nothing, listened him through.
“...they had fingers in me when Chief Dawson’s lights on the patrol car swung around the square, they dropped me and I grabbed my PJ’s and bolted.” He smiled wanly, face pale “I told Billy my Mom had caught me reading the mag and confiscated it the next day.
“See, Andy...” he continued, eyes troubled “... when I got home, I realized I had shot my first cum while his fingers were there. I... I didn’t want to enjoy it... I didn’t, really... but I’d come. I couldn’t deal with that for a long time.” he shook his head slowly, “I mean... I started bulking up through my teens and working at the mill to show I wasn’t... like that. Hell, I took steroids to get bigger until I realized what they were doin’ to me an’ quit them forever… Then I saw you... and realized I could be... with you... it was such a relief... I...” Michel took a deep breath, started to pull himself together.
“When you ...do me... I feel close to you in a way that I never felt with... ever. I never, ever felt. I love it an’ I love you doing me. I can trust you, and I know you’d never hurt me. When someone takes that choice away from me, everything I’ve worked so hard at getting my head around is just... gone. I can think what you goin’ through, I can remember my feelings... it’s burning in my brain... and it’s killing me! I’m too scared to touch you... in case you think I... would... I could...” Michel swung around and retched into the basin again. His foam and bile dripped into the soap water and he spat, retched again.
I watched the veins bulge in his pale skin, his forehead, his neck. I was still frozen in my first step towards him when he first heaved. I couldn’t think and I was numb inside. I knew I couldn’t stand here, and I couldn’t think of anything to do. I licked my lips.
“If... I say anything at all, I’ll probably say the wrong thing...” I stammered “If I don’t say anything to you now, I don’t think I could ever talk to you about this again. D’you understand?”
I shivered in a sudden fright. He nodded his head, not looking at me, wiping his mouth. I took a deep breath and let the words roll out. “Part of any ...rape... is the harm it causes around those people that have been ...raped. I also came, Michel. I-also-fucking-came. I’m getting my head around it too. The way I figure it, just about any man who got pressed up there like that is gonna cum.
“I didn’t ask him in there, and I’m not gonna be held over a barrel by it because my body did what it was made to do. He didn’t make me come. He damn near tore my ass and he hurt me, but he sure as fuck didn’t break me. If I hadn’t had you showing me the difference what we do together... and what he did... he... he would have broken me with that. He didn’t make me come. He took that come from me, and in a strange way he also took it from you or from anyone else I would have had it with.
“I don’t expect a twelve year old kid to know the difference, an’ I guess you’ve spent fifteen years chewin’ on it and more’s the pity. What he’s gonna wind up doing is to hurt both you and me, an’ I’ll be damned to Hell if I let him get away with that. Maybe... maybe if we play our cards right we can both get over this. Right now... right now I want someone to touch me... anyone but him... I want to feel that somebody else doesn’t mind feeling me touch them. I want to know that only he felt that way about me... that I’m not just anyone’s fist-pig. Do... do you understand me?”
“Yeah.” He stood away from the basin and rubbed him face, looking ashamed. “I lay awake all night thinking how strong I would be for you and how I keep pushing you to level with me. Then I fall to pieces the first time you really need me. Andy... Andy I’m really sorry, I fucked up.”
“Don’t be, Stud.” I shrugged “I love you. Anyways I find you, and no matter what, I love you.”
“Andy, I lo... Ah... I...” he stammered.
“Go on, get to work.” I interrupted smiling. “You got dibs on the shower.” I sipped the coffee clenched in my hand, mostly cold by now and turned out of the room and walked to the front porch to watch the rain belt down.
I drank the rest of the mug outside while I listened to the rain drum on the roof. My breath steamed in the air while I thought about... nothing. My work was finished, my life was at rest and everything was otherwise just dandy. In light of all my blessings, I had been raped. I was alive, not seriously injured and my self-esteem was not dented. The crisis with Michel pulled me out of the funk I was threatening to fall into, and focused me on a thought I didn’t think much about, any more.
Ga
y, fag, queer... I was all of these things, but I wasn’t any of them. Mostly if I thought about it, those were names that people called other people to try and put them in a box. Names they slung around because they wanted to condition the person they were branding, into accepting all of these things as true. I didn’t believe in any of that. I was just me. If I was honest with myself, I really liked me. Good, solid, tough Michel was also just himself, for the most part.
All the things that bugged me about myself must also bug him about himself. I keep forgetting that neither me... or any of my friends are machines that keep behaving in a reliable and consistent way. All the baggage they never discuss with anyone else, everything that they hide from other and from themselves was just baggage. No matter how ashamed Michel was of something that had happened years ago didn’t change the way I felt and thought about him.
It probably moulded him into the person I loved and cared for today. What bad things had happened to me through my life probably held true in the same way.
“Uh... Hey.” Michel peeked around the front door. “I forgot to tell you, I booked off a couple of days from work. I’m going in to town to pick up Dean for a few days, the whole valley is closing down. I’ll get some videos.” He smiled shyly. “You want anything ‘fore they all shut?”
“Yeah, that’ll be a treat, buddy.” I smiled warmly at him. “I’m going in a few minutes myself, so no Thanks. I’m gonna get some proscription and some booze, some other stuff, maybe.” I tightened my robe, it was getting cold outside. “Hey, stud.” He leaned his head past the door jamb again, keys in hand. He watched me with his beautiful eyes, heart on his sleeve
“You didn’t fuck up. You’re doing fine.” He flashed me a thousand-watt smile and ducked through the rain, slicker brandished over his head like a shield.