by A M Huff
“Justus?” Harrison asked when he did not answer.
“No,” Justus shook his head. “He has no one, only me.”
“Is there someone he authorized to make his final arrangements?”
“He has a will in the file cabinet in the den.”
“Den?” the officer asked.
“The other room at the top of the stairs,” Justus said slowly, as though talking to a child.
“Okay,” the officer said, sounding a bit puzzled. “It might be better if you got it for me.”
“Sure,” Justus answered.
He walked back into the house and headed up the stairs. Two officers stood in the doorway of Marcus’ bedroom talking in low voices. Justus instantly disliked them but resisted the urge to snap at them. He turned toward the second bedroom and walked over to the file cabinet beside the window that overlooked the backyard. He pulled the top drawer open and found the red folder in the back with the label Important Papers. He pulled the file out and turned around, nearly bumping into the officer.
“Here,” Justus said and held out the papers.
“Thank you,” the officer said in a gentle tone. “I’m really sorry about your friend.”
Justus closed the file drawer while he looked at the officer. Nope. Still a jerk.
Back on the front porch, the reality of what happened began to set in as the sun dropped out of sight and the streetlights flickered on. Justus turned away from the officer and Harrison, retreating to the far corner of the front porch. In the shadows, he wrapped his arms around himself as he began to cry quietly.
“The police say we can go now,” Harrison said, putting his hands on Justus’ quivering shoulders.
“No,” Justus answered. He shook his head and tried to collect himself. “No. I want to stay until they take him away.”
“Are you sure?” Harrison asked.
“Yes.” Justus nodded. He wiped his damp cheeks with his hands and then dried his hands on his jeans. He took a deep breath and managed to hold back his tears. He turned around. When Harrison slipped his arm around him, Justus leaned into him.
The officer held out the folder to Justus. “It says you’re the executor of your friend’s estate. You’ll need this.”
Suddenly the memory of their talk a few weeks ago rushed back, filling Justus’ head. He looked at Harrison. “Will you help me?”
“Of course,” Harrison answered and gave Justus a one-armed hug.
The sound of a car approaching caused Justus to look at the street. The crowd across the street had grown. Justus spotted the boy on his bike. He had returned but stayed away from the others as he sat staring at the house. A black Ford van pulled to a stop in the middle of the street and blocked Justus’ view of the boy.
Two men jumped out of the van. The driver met the passenger at the rear doors. They pulled a gurney out and wheeled it through the gate and up the walk. When they reached the steps, they lifted it to the porch and took it through the front door.
The whole scene reminded Justus of the detective shows he had seen on TV. The two men with the gurney were dressed in black with white lab coats. One carried a clipboard, the other a camera. In his mind he could see the man with the camera taking pictures of Marcus and his bedroom. Marcus would have hated that. They would put Marcus’ body on the gurney, cover it with a white sheet, and then wheel him away.
Justus heard some talking in the foyer inside. He looked at the door. There was the sound of metal squealing, and then one of the men backed out onto the porch, pulling the gurney. Justus’ breath caught when he saw the heavy, black-plastic zippered bag on the gurney. He knew Marcus’ body was inside. The rush of reality hit him again, like a punch in the gut. He gasped and wrapped his arms around himself. He felt Harrison’s arm pull him closer, steadying him. Tears once again blurred his vision while he watched the men take Marcus away.
The officer came back out and stood in front of them.
“One question before you leave, do you know who he was with?” he asked.
“No,” Justus answered.
“What makes you think he was with someone?” Harrison asked.
“He was still wearing a condom.”
“Oh, dear God,” Justus gasped. Tears began to stream down his cheeks. He felt sick over the humiliation of it all. Why wouldn’t Harrison let me clean him up? Marcus deserved better than this. He turned toward Harrison. “Get me out of here, please.”
“It’s okay. We’re done here,” the policeman said.
One of the other officers walked out onto the porch. He held several plastic bags that resembled large, zip-lock storage bags. Inside one was the brown vial; another, the condom. Justus looked away afraid to see what other items they had collected from Marcus’ private bedroom.
“If you have any questions, here’s my card.” The officer handed Harrison the card. “We’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you,” Harrison said.
Justus dried his tears. He watched the policemen walk back to their cars.
“I want to take a look inside before we go,” he said. “Make sure they didn’t trash the place.”
“They wouldn’t do that,” Harrison said.
“I still want to look.”
They made a quick tour of the house. Everything was as they had found it except for Marcus’ bedroom. The bedsheets had been stripped, bundled up, and left in the center of the bed as though it were laundry day. Justus looked in the closet. Everything was in its place. The shoes beneath the chair were gone as were the clothes.
“Ready?” Harrison asked.
Justus nodded.
Walking back out onto the front porch, Harrison locked the front door and made sure it was secure. While he headed for the car, Justus glanced across the street. The crowd had dispersed. The boy on his bike was gone. Everything seemed quiet and normal again.
Chapter Thirteen
Justus woke up still tired and feeling as if he had been beaten up. His eyes felt puffy and scratchy, and his chest hurt inside. Slowly he pushed himself up and sat with his feet on the cold wooden floor of his bedroom.
Was it all a dream? Please, let it have been a bad dream.
He heard voices downstairs.
What time is it? He looked at his alarm clock. It was nearly one in the afternoon.
What day is it? He thought hard but still was not quite sure.
Slowly he made his way out to the hall and down the stairs.
Scotty sat in the living room curled up on the couch. His eyes were red and his cheeks damp with tears. He stared at nothing, seemingly lost in his thoughts.
Dale sat at the other end of the sofa. He looked up when Justus walked into the room.
“When did you get here?” Justus asked. His voice cracked.
“About ten, right after Harrison called,” Dale answered in a somber tone.
“Harry called you?”
“Yeah.”
Justus noticed the two glasses on the coffee table. Harrison must have poured them a drink.
“What time is it?” he asked.
“It’s a little after one.”
Justus looked around the room and could not focus. His head felt numb, as though he had been drinking.
“Where’s Harry?”
“He’s in the kitchen with Doug,” Dale answered.
Justus looked at Scotty before he turned around and headed to the kitchen.
“I don’t know,” Harrison was saying to Douglas when Justus walked into the room. “You’re up.”
Justus did not answer. He stared at the coffee pot and then at the glass of wine on the island. Something brushed against his leg. He looked down. Col. Mustard rubbed himself against Justus and looked up at him. He mewed.
“Come here,” Douglas said and stood up. He wrapped his arms around Justus and gave him a hug. “I’m so sorry,” he said into his ear.
Justus grabbed Douglas and held onto him. Tears filled his eyes and overflowed. He buried his face in Douglas’ chest a
nd cried.
“It’s going to be okay,” Douglas whispered and held him tighter. “You’ll get through this. We’ll help you.”
It took a while but Justus finally regained a bit of composure. He loosened his hold on Douglas and stepped back. Douglas’ shirt was damp with tears. Justus reached up and tried to wipe it dry.
“It’s okay,” Douglas said in a gentle tone. “What would you like to drink?”
“Do we have any Jack Daniel’s?”
“Whiskey?” Harrison asked and gave him a surprised look. “How about some coffee first?”
“Only if it has something stronger than cream in it,” Justus answered.
“How about I make you something,” Douglas spoke up and walked around to the other side of the island. He opened the cupboard in the island and bent down. “Let’s see what you have down here,” he mumbled. “Aha! Perfect.” He grabbed three bottles and put them on the counter behind him. He closed the cabinet with his foot.
Justus looked at the countertop, at the dark gray veins that gave it that Carrara marble look. He mindlessly followed a vein to the edge where it stopped.
“Here you go,” Douglas said and turned around. He slid a mug of what appeared to be black coffee across the island.
“What is it?” Justus asked.
“Just taste it.”
Hesitantly Justus raised the mug to his lips. He inhaled the aroma and smelled the presence of alcohol. He looked at Douglas who stood leaning against the island with his palms pressed flat against the countertop. He was watching Justus intently.
Justus took a sip and let the warm brew linger in his mouth. He could taste Kahlua and chocolate. It was not bad.
“Sorry there was no whipped cream,” Douglas said. “It’s better with a dab.”
“This is really good,” Justus finally said after he swallowed. “What is it?”
“It’s called a coffee nudge.”
“I think I found my new favorite drink.”
Douglas smiled.
“Lunch will be ready soon,” Harrison said. “Are you hungry?”
Justus thought for a moment. He was not sure. He took a deep breath and realized he smelled a pot roast cooking in the oven. He looked at the stove and saw a steaming pot. Looking back at Harrison, he shrugged.
“I should check on Dale and Scotty,” Douglas said and left the room.
“Are you still tired?” Harrison asked.
“I don’t know,” Justus answered. “I just feel strange.”
“That’s to be expected. It was quite a shock.”
“How’s Scotty? You didn’t tell him how we found Marcus did you?”
“I only said we found him in his bed.”
Justus nodded and took another sip. “Good. Marcus wouldn’t want him to know the details.” He suddenly remembered something and looked around the kitchen. “Where’s the folder?”
“It’s right where you left it, by the phone,” Harrison answered and motioned toward the counter against the wall behind Justus.
Justus turned to see. Harrison was right. It was beside the telephone, only he could not remember putting it there.
“Why don’t you go take a shower, it might help?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Justus answered.
“Lunch will be ready when you finish.”
Justus stood up. He took his drink and headed for his bathroom upstairs.
The hot water felt good against Justus’ neck and shoulders. He rolled his head back and forth letting the jets in the showerhead massage the tightness away. He tilted his head back and let the water run through his hair and down this face, washing away the images in his head. Turning around, he readjusted the nozzle to a rain setting and was drenched in warmth. Slowly the numbness drained away leaving fresh, raw pain that stung.
Justus’ legs gave under the weight of his grief and he crumpled onto the floor of the shower. He wrapped his arms around his legs and buried his face in his knees while the water continued to rain down on him, drowning his sobs.
When he returned downstairs, everyone was seated at the table in the dining room. Justus set his empty coffee mug down beside his plate.
“Another?” Douglas asked. He reached across the table in front of Scotty and picked up the mug.
“Please,” Justus answered and pulled out his chair. He glanced at Harrison seated across from him while he sat down.
“Smells wonderful,” he said in an attempt to get back some sense of normal. He looked to his right, at Dale seated in front of the large, leaded-glass window. Then to his left at Scotty, who was seated beside Douglas’ empty chair. Scotty had the same blank stare he had earlier. He sat with his hands resting on either side of the plate in front of him. Justus reached over and gave his hand a squeeze. Scotty looked at him. His eyes were wet, blood shot, and lost. “We’ll be okay,” Justus whispered. Scotty nodded.
Douglas returned and set Justus’ steaming cup on the table in front of him.
“Thank you,” Justus said.
Douglas looked around the table. “Anyone need another drink while I’m up?” No one responded. “Okay,” Douglas said and sat back down.
Harrison put several chunks of pot roast onto his plate, followed by carrots and small red potatoes. Justus watched. Douglas helped himself to the fresh rolls while he waited for the roast plater. Justus watched in silence. Neither Scotty nor Dale made any motion toward the food.
“Come on, guys, eat,” Harrison urged. He looked at Dale. “There more Jack if you’d like.”
Justus inhaled sharply at the sound of Jack’s name. He looked at Dale and Scotty before looking at Harrison. He watched Harrison’s expression change to a shocked look.
“I’m so sorry,” he apologized. “I meant Jack Daniel’s.”
“It’s okay,” Justus said, feeling his strength returning. “With everything—I had forgotten about Jack. We have to find him now more than ever.” He looked at Dale again. “Are you doing okay?”
“Yeah,” he answered in a weak voice.
Justus looked at Scotty. “Scotty,” he said and put his hand over Scotty’s again.
Slowly, Scotty turned and looked at Justus. He opened his mouth but no sound came out.
Justus felt his own throat tighten. He gave a sympathetic smile. He wanted to tell him that Marcus loved him, but knew it would send Scotty even deeper into his grief.
“Please, eat something,” Justus said.
Scotty did not react. He turned his head and looked down at his plate while Douglas put a spoonful of pot roast and potatoes on it.
After several attempts at conversation, the five fell into silence and tried to eat. Justus took a bite. The roast tasted wonderful but when he tried to swallow it, it felt as if it stuck in his throat. He took a drink of water.
“How about some music?” Douglas suggested.
“Sure,” Harrison said. He jumped up and went into the living room where his vinyl record collection and stereo were. Justus looked over his shoulder to see which album Harrison would choose. From his seat at the table, he could not see but a moment later the house came alive with the sound of Stevie Nicks’ voice.
Rumors. 1977. Justus recognized the album.
Lunch was over by the time Side A finished playing. Scotty scarcely touched his food even with Douglas’ encouragement. Dale managed a bite and then seemed to snap back to normal and finished his plateful, even having a second.
The five left the table and went into the living room. They listened to Side B while they had another round of drinks.
“I think I should go on home,” Dale said when he finished his drink.
“You don’t have to go,” Harrison said. “You could stay the night.”
“No,” Dale answered. “Thank you but I think I need to be home.”
“Okay,” Harrison answered.
Everyone but Scotty stood up and gave Dale a hug. Afterward, Harrison and Douglas retreated to the kitchen to put the leftovers away and clean up.
&nb
sp; Justus walked Dale to the front door. “Are you sure you have to go?”
“Yes,” Dale answered. “I have to. Seeing Scotty like this, I can’t stop thinking about Jack. I don’t know what I would do if—We have to find him. He has to be okay.”
“I know. We will.” Justus gave his friend a hug and watched him head down the walk to his car parked by the curb. Once Dale drove away, he closed the door and returned to the living room. He sat down beside Scotty. He put his hands between his knees but really wanted to put his arm around his friend.
“I–I,” Scotty stammered. “I was in love with him, you know.”
“Yes,” Justus answered.
Tears dampened Scotty’s red cheeks again. “Every time he walked into the room, my heart would beat faster. Every time he left with another man, I died a little inside, but I still loved him and hoped that one day he would notice me.”
Justus nodded to himself. “I’m sure he did.”
“No,” Scotty said and shook his head. “Don’t pretend for me. I do that enough already. He never had a clue; and now, he’ll never know.”
Justus turned and started to hug him but Scotty put his hand up.
“Please, don’t. I’m trying to hold on. If you hug me—I don’t want to fall apart.”
“I understand,” Justus said and sat back. “I love you, Scotty.”
“Me, too.”
“Would you like some more Coke?” Justus asked, seeing Scotty’s empty glass sitting on the coffee table.
“No, I’m fine for now, thank you.”
“Okay. I’ll be back.”
He stood up and headed to the kitchen. The knot in his chest from trying to suppress his emotions made his heart ache. He barely reached the dining room before tears blurred his vision. He stumbled into the kitchen.
Harrison and Douglas sat across from each other at the island. Harrison sipped on his glass of red wine while Douglas drank his beer from the bottle. They stopped talking when Justus came into the room. Douglas jumped up and wrapped his arms around Justus.
“It’s okay,” he said.
Justus once again was overcome by his grief and gave way to tears. His sobs were muffled by Douglas’ chest.